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THE    NOVELS 

Of 

Mliss    Augusta    J.    IK  vans. 

I-    .    .    .    BEULAH   .    .        .    Price  *x.7S- 
II-    .    .    .    MACARIA      .    .    .  *i.75- 

Ill-    ...    ST.    ELMO    .    .    .  $3.00. 


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G-XJSTA    J.     EVANS, 


AUTHOR  OP 
)>     u 


BEULAH,       "  MACARIA,      ETC. 


[lAh  !  the  true  rule  is— a  true  wife  in  her  husband's  house  is  his  servant ;  it  is  in 

his  heart  that  she  is  queen.     Whatever  of  the  best  he  can  conceive,  it  is  her 

part  to  be  ;  whatever  of  the  highest  he  can  hope,  it  is  hers  to  promise ;  all 

that  is  dark  in  him  she  must  purge  into  purity ;  all  that  is  failing 

in  him  she  must  strengthen  into  truth ;  from  her,  through  all 

the  world's  clamor,  he  must  win  his  praise ;  in  her, 

through  all  the  icorld's  warfare,  he  must  find  his 

peace." — John  Rcskin. 


NEW-YORK : 
CslSiZUTOJV,    Thiblisher,    If 3  BROADWAY. 

LONDON:    S.    LOW,   SON   &   CO. 
MDCCCLXVII. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1SGG,  by 

G.     W       CARLETON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New-York. 


J.     C.     DERBY, 


IN   GRATEFUL   MEMORY   OP    MANY    YEARS   OF    KIND   AND   FAITHFUL   FRIENDSHIP, 
THESE    PAGES    ARE 

AFFECTIONATELY     DEDICATED. 


ST.   ELMO. 


CHAPTER  I. 


E  stood  and  measured  the  earth:  and  the  ever 
lasting  mountains  were  scattered,  the  perpet- 
ual hills  did  bow." 

These  words  of  the  prophet  upon  Shigio- 
notn  were  sung  by  a  sweet,  happy  childish  voice,  and  to  a 
strange,  wild,  anomalous  tune — solemn  as  the  Hebrew  chant 
of  Deborah,  and  fully  as  triumphant. 

A  slender  girl  of  twelve  years'  growth  steadied  a  pail  of 
water  On  her  head,  with  both  dimpled  arms  thrown  up,  in 
ancient  classic  Caryatides  attitude ;  and,  pausing  a  moment 
beside  the  spring,  stood  fronting  the  great  golden  dawn — 
watching  for  the  first  level  ray  of  the  coming  sun,  and 
chanting  the  prayer  of  Habakkuk.  Behind  her  in  silent 
grandeur  towered  the  huge  outline  of  Lookout  Mountain, 
shrouded  at  summit  in  gray  mist ;  while  centre  and  base 
showed  dense  masses  of  foliage,  dim  and  purplish  in  the 
distance — a  stern  cowled  monk  of  the  Cumberland  broth- 
erhood. Low  hills  clustered  on  either  side,  but  immediate- 
ly in  front  stretched  a  wooded  plain,  and  across  this  the 
child  looked  at  the  flushed  sky,  rapidly  brightening  into 
fiery  and  blinding  radiance.  Until  her  wild  song  waked 
echoes  among  the  far-off  rocks,  the  holy  hush  of  early  morn- 
ing had  rested  like  a  benediction  upon  the  scene,  as  though 


O  ST.  ELMO. 

nature  laid  her  broad  finger  over  her  great  lips,  and  waited 
in  reverent  silence  the  advent  of  the  sun.  Morning  among 
the  mountains  possessed  witchery  and  glories  which  filled 
the  heart  of  the  girl  with  adoration,  and  called  from  her 
lips  rude  but  exultant  anthems  of  praise.  The  young  face, 
lifted  toward  the  cloudless  east,  might  have  served  as  a 
model  for  a  pictured  Syriac  priestess — one  of  Baalbec's  ves- 
tals, ministering  in  the  olden  time  in  that  wondrous  and 
grand  temple  at  Heliopolis. 

The  large  black  eyes  held  a  singular  fascination  in  their 
mild  sparkling  depths,  now  full  of  tender  loving  light  and 
childish  gladness ;  and  the  flexible  red  lips  curled  in  lines  of 
orthodox  Greek  perfection,  showing  remarkable  versatility 
of  expression ;  while  the  broad,  full,  polished  forehead  with 
its  prominent,  swelling  brows,  could  not  fail  to  recall,  to 
even  casual  observers,  the  calm,  powerful  face  of  Lorenzo 
de'  Medicis,  which,  if  once  looked  on,  fastens  itself  upon 
heart  and  brain,  to  be  forgotten  no  more.  Her  hair,  black, 
straight,  waveless  as  an  Indian's,  hung  around  her  shoul- 
ders, and  glistened  as  the  water  from  the  dripping  bucket 
trickled  through  the  wreath  of  purple  morning-glories  and 
scarlet  cypress,  which  she  had  twined  about  her  head,  ere 
lifting  the  cedar  pail  to  its  resting-place.  She  wore  a  short- 
sleeved  dress  of  yellow  striped  homespun,  which  fell  nearly 
to  her  ankles,  and  her  little  bare  feet  gleamed  pearly  white 
on  the  green  grass  and  rank  dewy  creepers  that  clustered 
along  the  margin  of  the  bubbling  spring.  Her  complexion 
was  unusually  transparent,  and  early  exercise  and  mountain 
air  had  rouged  her  cheeks  till  they  matched  the  brilliant 
hue  of  her  scarlet  crown.  A  few  steps  in  advance  of  her 
stood  a  large,  fierce  yellow  dog,  with  black  scowling  face, 
and  ears  cut  close  to  his  head  ;  a  savage,  repulsive  creature, 
who  looked  as  if  he  rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  of  making 
good  his  name,  "  Grip."  In  the  solemn  beauty  of  that  sum- 
mer morning  the  girl  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  mission 
upon  which  she  came ;  but  as  she  loitered,  the  sun  flashed 

:;  "J\J 

l\r\  1 


ST.  ELMO.  h 

up,  kindling  diamond  fringes  on  every  dew-Leaded  chestmfr 
leaf  and  oak-bough,  and  silvering  the  misty  mantle  which 
enveloped  Lookout.  A  moment  longer  that  pure-hearted 
Tennessee  child  stood  watching  the  gorgeous  spectacle, 
drinking  draughts  of  joy,  which  mingled  no  drop  of  sin  or 
selfishness  in  its  crystal  waves;  for  she  had  grown  up 
alone  with  nature — utterly  ignorant  of  the  roar  and  strife, 
the  burning  hate  and  cunning  intrigue  of  the  great  world 
of  men  and  women,  where  "  like  an  Egyptian  pitcher  of 
tamed  vipers,  each  struggles  to  get  its  head  above  the 
other."  To  her,  earth  seemed  very  lovely ;  life  stretched 
before  her  like  the  sun's  path  in  that  clear  sky,  and,  as  free 
from  care  or  foreboding  as  the  fair  June  day,  she  walked 
on,  preceded  by  her  dog — and  the  chant  burst  once  more 
from  her  lips : 

"  He  stood  and  measured  the  earth  :  and  the  everlasting 

mountains  were  scattered,  the  perpetual  hills " 

The  sudden,  almost  simultaneous  report  of  two  pistol- 
shots  rang  out  sharply  on  the  cool,  calm  air,  and  startled  the 
child  so  violently  that  she  sprang  forward  and  dropped  the 
bucket.     The  sound  of  voices  reached  her  from  the  thick 
wood  bordering  the  path,  and,  without  reflection,  she  fol- 
lowed the  dog,  who  bounded  off  toward  the  point  whence 
it  issued.     Upon  the  verge  of  the  forest  she  paused,  and, 
looking  down  a  dewy  green  glade  where  the  rising  sun 
darted  the  earliest  arrowy  rays,  beheld  a  spectacle  which 
burned  itself  indelibly  upon  her  memory.     A  group  of  five 
gentlemen  stood  beneath  the  dripping  chestnut  and  sweet- 
gum  arches ;  one  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  two 
were  conversing  eagerly  in  undertones,  and  two  faced  each 
other  fifteen  paces  apart,  with  pistols  in  their  hands.     Ere 
she  could  comprehend  the  scene,  the  brief  conference  ended 
the  seconds  resumed  their  places  to  witness  another  fire 
and  like  the  peal  of  a  trumpet  echoed  the  words : 
"  Fire !     One  !— two  !— three !" 
The  flash  and  ringing  report  mingled  with  the  command, 


10  ST.  ELMO 

and  one  of  the  principals  threw  up  his  arm  and  fell.  When, 
with  horror  in  her  wide-strained  eyes  and  pallor  on  her 
lips,  the  child  staggered  to  the  spot,  and  looked  on  the 
prostrate  form,  he  was  dead.  The  hazel  eyes  stared  blank- 
ly at  the  sky,  and  the  hue  of  life  and  exuberant  health  still 
glowed  on  the  full  cheek;  but  the  ball  had  entered  the 
heart,  and  the  warm  blood,  bubbling  from  his  breast,  dripped 
on  the  glistening  grass.  The  surgeon  who  knelt  beside 
him  took  the  pistol  from  his  clenched  fingers,  and  gently 
pressed  the  lids  over  his  glazing  eyes.  Not  a  word  was  ut- 
tered, but  while  the  seconds  sadly  regarded  the  stiffening 
form,  the  surviving  principal  coolly  drew  out  a  cigar,  lighted 
and  placed  it  between  his  lips.  The  child's  eyes  had  wan- 
dered to  the  latter  from  the  pool  of  blood,  and  now  in  a 
shuddering  cry  she  broke  the  silence  : 

"  Murderer !" 

The  party  looked  around  instantly,  and  for  the  first  time 
perceived  her  standing  there  in  their  midst,  with  loathing 
and  horror  in  the  gaze  she  fixed  on  the  perpetrator  of  the 
awful  deed.  In  great  surprise  he  drew  back  a  step  or  two, 
and  asked  gruffly : 

"  "Who  are  you  ?     What  business  have  you  here  ?" 

"  Oh  !  how  dared  you  murder  him  ?  Do  you  think  God 
will  forgive  you  on  the  gallows  ?" 

He  was  a  man  probably  twenty-seven  years  of  age — sin- 
gularly fair,  handsome,  and  hardened  in  iniquity,  but  he 
cowered  before  the  blanched  and  accusing  face  of  the  ap- 
palled child ;  and  ere  a  reply  could  be  framed,  his  friend 
came  close  to  him. 

"  Clinton,  you  had  better  be  off;  you  have  barely  time  to 
catch  the  Knoxville  train,  which  leaves  Chattanooga  in  half 
an  hour.  I  would  advise  you  to  make  a  long  stay  in  New- 
York,  for  there  will  be  trouble  when  Dent's  brother  hears 
of  this  morning's  work." 

"  Aye !  Take  my  word  for  that,  and  put  the  Atlantic 
between  you  and  Dick  Dent,"  added  the  surgeon,  smiling 


ST.  ELMO.  11 

grimly,  as  if  the  anticipation  of  retributive  jus  ace  afforded 
him  pleasure. 

"I  will  simply  put  this  between  us,"  replied  the  homi- 
cide, fitting  his  pistol  to  the  palm  of  his  hand ;  and  as  lie 
did  so,  a  heavy  antique  diamond  ring  flashed  on  his  little 
finger. 

"  Come,  Clinton,  delay  may  cause  you  more  trouble 
than  we  bargained  for,"  urged  his  second. 

Without  even  glancing  toward  the  body  of  his  antago- 
nist, Clinton  scowled  at  the  child,  and,  turning  away,  was 
soon  out  of  sight. 

"  O  sir !  will  you  let  him  get  away  ?  will  you  let  him 
go  unpunished  ?" 

"  He  can  not  be  punished,"  answered  the  surgeon,  look- 
ing at  her  with  mingled  curiosity  and  admiration. 

"I  thought  men  were  hung  for  murder." 

"  Yes — but  this  is  not  murder." 

"  Not  murder  ?     He  shot  liirn  dead  !     What  is  it  ?" 

"  He  killed  him  in  a  duel,  which  is  considered  quite  right 
and  altogether  proper." 

"A  duel?" 

She  had  never  heard  the  word  before,  and  pondered  an 
instant. 

"  To  take  a  man's  life  is  murder.  Is  there  no  law  to  pun- 
ish '  a  duel '  ?" 

"  None  strong  enough  to  prohibit  the  practice.  It  is  re- 
garded as  the  only  method  of  honorable  satisfaction  open 
to  gentlemen." 

"  Honorable  satisfaction  ?"  she  repeated — weighing  the 
new  phraseology  as  cautiously  and  fearfully  as  she  would 
have  handled  the  bloody  garments  of  the  victim. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?"  asked  the  surgeon. 

"Edna  Earl." 

"  Do  you  live  near  this  place  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  very  near." 

"  Is  your  father  at  home  ?" 


12  ST.  ELMO. 

"  I  have  no  father,  but  grandpa  has  not  gone  tc  the  slioy 

yet." 

"  Will  you  show  me  the  way  to  the  house  ?" 

';  Do  you  wish  to  carry  him  there  ?"  she  asked,  glancing 
at  the  corpse,  and  shuddering  violently. 

"  Yes,  I  want  some  assistance  from  your  grandfather." 

"  I  will  show  you  the  way,  sir." 

The  surgeon  spoke  hurriedly  to  the  two  remaining  gen- 
tlemen, and  followed  his  guide.  Slowly  she  retraced  her 
steps,  refilled  her  bucket  at  the  spring,  and  walked  on  be- 
fore the  stranger.  But  the  glory  of  the  morning  had  passed 
away ;  a  bloody  mantle  hung  between  the  splendor  of  sum- 
mer sunshine  and  the  chilled  heart  of  the  awe-struck  girl. 
The  forehead  of  the  radiant  holy  June  day  had  been  sud- 
denly red-branded  like  Cain,  to  be  henceforth  an  occasion 
of  hideous  reminiscences ;  and  with  a  blanched  face  and 
trembling  limbs  the  child  followed  a  narrow  beaten  path, 
which  soon  terminated  at  the  gate  of  a  rude,  unwhitewashed 
paling.  A  low,  comfortless-looking  thi'ee-roomed  house 
stood  within,  and  on  the  steps  sat  an  elderly  man,  smoking 
a  pipe,  and  busily  engaged  in  mending  a  bridle.  The 
creaking  of  the  gate  attracted  his  attention,  and  he  looked 
up  wonderingly  at  the  advancing  stranger. 

"  O  grandpa !  there  is  a  murdered  man  lying  in  the 
grass,  under  the  chestnut-trees,  down  by  the  spring." 

"  Why  !  how  do  you  know  he  was  murdered  ?" 

"  Good  morning,  sir.  Your  granddaughter  happened  to 
witness  a  very  unfortunate  and  distressing  affair.  A  duel 
was  fought  at  sunrise,  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  yonder,  and 
the  challenged  party,  Mr.  Dent  of  Georgia,  was  killed.  I 
came  to  ask  permission  to  bring  the  body  here,  until  ar- 
rangements can  be  made  for  its  interment ;  and  also  to  beg 
your  assistance  in  obtaining  a  coffin." 

Edna  passed  on  to  the  kitchen,  and  as  she  deposited  th6 
bucket  on  the  table,  a  tall,  muscular,  red-haired  woman,  who 
was  stooping  over  the  fire,  raised  her  flushed  face  and  ex- 
claimed angrily : 


ST.  ELMO.  IB 

"  What  upon  earth  have  you  been  doing  ?  I  have  been 
half-way  to  the  spring  to  call  you,  and  hadn't  a  drop  of 
water  in  the  kitchen,  to  make  coffee  !  A  pretty  time  of  day 
Aaron  Hunt  will  get  his  breakfast !  What  do  you  mean  by 
Buch  idleness  ?" 

She  advanced  with  threatening  mien  and  gesture,  but 
stopped  suddenly. 

"  Edna,  what  ails  you  ?  Have  you  got  an  ague  ?  You 
are  as  white  as  that  pan  of  flour.  Are  you  scared  or 
sick  ?" 

"  There  was  a  man  killed  this  morning,  and  the  body  will 
be  brought  here  directly.  If  you  want  to  hear  about  it,  you 
had  better  go  out  on  the  porch.  One  of  the  gentlemen  is 
talking  to  grandpa." 

Stunned  by  what  she  had  seen,  and  indisposed  to  narrate 
the  horrid  details,  the  girl  went  to  her  own  room,  and  seat- 
ing herself  in  the  window,  tried  to  collect  her  thoughts. 
She  was  tempted  to  believe  the  whole  affair  a  hideous 
dream,  which  would  pass  away  with  vigorous  rubbing  of 
her  eyes ;  but  the  crushed  purple  and  scarlet  flowers  she 
took  from  her  forehead,  her  dripping  hair  and  damp  feet 
assured  her  of  the  vivid  reality  of  the  vision.  Every  fibre 
of  her  frame  had  received  a  terrible  shock,  and  when  noisy, 
bustling  Mrs.  Hunt  ran  from  room  to  room,  ejaculating  her 
astonishment,  and  calling  on  the  child  to  assist  in  putting 
the  house  in  order,  the  latter  obeyed  silently,  mechanically, 
as  if  in  a  state  of  somnambulism. 

Mr.  Dent's  body  was  brought  up  on  a  rude  litter  of 
boards,  and  temporarily  placed  on  Edna's  bed,  and  toward 
evening,  when  a  coffin  arrived  from  Chattanooga,  the  re- 
mains were  removed,  and  the  coffin  rested  on  two  chairs  in 
the  middle  of  the  same  room.  The  surgeon  insisted  upon 
an  immediate  interment  near  the  scene  of  combat ;  but  the 
gentleman  who  had  officiated  as  second  for  the  deceased  ex- 
pressed his  determination  to  carry  the  unfortunate  man's 
body  back  to  his  home  and  family,  and  the  earliest  train  on 


14  ST.  ELMO. 

the  following  day  was  appointed  as  the  time  fcr  uheir  de- 
parture. Late  in  the  afternoon  Edna  cautiously  opened 
the  door  of  the  room  which  she  had  hitherto  avoided,  and 
with  her  apron  full  of  lilies,  white  poppies,  and  sprigs  of 
rosemary,  approached  the  coffin,  and  looked  at  the  rigid 
sleeper.  Judging  from  his  appearance,  not  more  than 
thirty  years  had  gone  over  his  handsome  head  ;  his  placid 
features  were  unusually  regular,  and  a  soft,  silky  brown 
beard  fell  upon  his  pulseless  breast.  Fearful  lest  she  should 
touch  the  icy  form,  the  girl  timidly  strewed  her  flowers  in 
the  coffin,  and  tears  gathered  and  dropped  with  the  blos- 
soms, as  she  noticed  a  plain  gold  ring  on  the  little  finger, 
and  wondered  if  he  were  married — if  his  death  would  leave 
wailing  orphans  in  his  home,  and  a  broken-hearted  widow 
at  the  desolate  hearthstone.  Absorbed  in  her  melancholy 
task,  she  heard  neither  the  sound  of  strange  voices  in  the 
passage,  nor  the  faint  creak  of  the  door  as  it  swung  back 
on  its  rusty  hinges ;  but  a  shrill  scream,  a  wild,  despairing 
shriek  terrified  her,  and  her  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  as 
she  bounded  away  from  the  side  of  the  coffin.  The  light  ol 
the  setting  sun  streamed  through  the  window,  and  over  the 
white,  convulsed  face  of  a  feeble  but  beautiful  woman,  who 
was  supported  on  the  threshold  by  a  venerable  gray -haired 
man,  down  whose  furrowed  cheeks  tears  coursed  rapidly. 
Struggling  to  free  herself  from  his  restraining  grasp,  the 
stranger  tottered  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  O  Harry !  My  husband  !  '  my  husband  !"  She  threw 
up  her  wasted  arms,  and  fell  forward  senseless  on  the 
corpse. 

They  bore  her  into  the  adjoining  apartment,  where  the 
surgeon  administered  the  usual  restoratives,  and  though 
finally  the  pulses  stirred  and  throbbed  feebly,  no  symptom 
of  returning  consciousness  greeted  the  anxious  friends  who 
bent  over  her.  Hour  after  hour  passed,  during  which  she 
lay  as  motionless  as  her  husband's  body,  and  at  length  the 
physician  sighed,  and  pressing  his  fingers  to  his  eyes,  said 


ST.  ELMO.  15 

sorrowfully  to  the  grief-stricken  old  man  beside  him :  "  II 
is  paralysis,  Mr.  Dent,  and  there  is  no  hope.  She  maj 
linger  twelve  or  twenty-four  hours,  but  her  sorrows  arc 
ended ;  she  and  Harry  will  soon  be  reunited.  Knowing  hei 
constitution,  I  feared  as  much.  You  should  not  have  suf 
fered  her  to  come ;  you  might  have  known  that  the  shock 
would  kill  her.  For  this  reason  I  wished  his  body  buried 
here." 

"  I  could  not  restrain  her.  Some  meddling  gossip  told 
her  that  my  poor  boy  had  gone  to  fight  a  duel,  and  she  rose 
from  her  bed  and  started  to  the  railroad  depot.  I  pleaded, 
I  reasoned  with  her  that  she  could  not  bear  the  journey, 
but  I  might  as  well  have  talked  to  the  winds.  I  never 
knew  her  obstinate  before,  but  she  seemed  to  have  a  pre- 
sentiment of  the  truth.     God  pity  her  two  sweet  babes !" 

The  old  man  bowed  his  head  upon  her  pillow,  and  sobbed 
aloud. 

Throughout  the  night  Edna  crouched  beside  the  bed, 
watching  the  wan  but  lovely  face  of  the  young  widow,  and 
tenderly  chafing  the  numb  fair  hands  which  lay  so  motion- 
less on  the  coverlet.  Children  are  always  sanguine,  because 
of  their  ignorance  of  the  stern  inexorable  realities  of  the  un- 
tried future,  and  Edna  could  not  believe  that  death  would 
snatch  from  the  world  one  so  beautiful  and  so  necessary  to 
her  prattling  fatherless  infants.  But  morning  showed  no 
encouraging  symptoms,  the  stupor  was  unbroken,  and  at 
noon  the  wife's  spirit  passed  gently  to  the  everlasting  re- 
union. 

Before  sunrise  on  the  ensuing  day,  a  sad  group  clustered 
once  more  under  the  dripping  chestnuts,  and  where  a  pool 
of  blood  had  dyed  the  sod  a  wide  grave  yawned.  The 
coffins  were  lowered,  the  bodies  of  Henry  and  Helen  Dent 

sted  side  by  side,  and,  as  the  mound  rose  slowly  above 

em,  the  solemn  silence  was  broken  by  the  faltering  voice 
of  the  surgeon,  who  read  the  burial  service  : 

"  Man,  that  is  born  of  a  woman,  hath  but  a  short  time  to 


16  ST.  ELMO. 

live,  and  is  full  of  misery.  He  cometh  up,  and  is  cut  down, 
like  a  flower ;  he  fleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and  never  con- 
tinueth  in  one  stay.  Tet,  O  Lord  God  most  holy,  O  Lord 
most  mighty,  O  holy  and  most  merciful  Saviour,  deliver  us , 
not  into  the  pains  of  eternal  death  !" 

The   melancholy   rite   ended,   the   party   dispersed,   the 
strangers  took  their  departure  for  their  distant  homes,  and 
quiet  reigned  once  more  in  the  small  dark  cottage.     But 
days  and  weeks  brought  to  Edna  no  oblivion  of  the  tragic 
events  which  constituted  the  first  great  epoch  of  her  mo- 
notonous life.     A  nervous  restlessness  took  possession  of 
her,  she  refused  to  occupy  her  old  room,  and  insisted  upon 
sleeping  on  a  pallet  at  the  foot  of  her  grandfather's  bed. 
She  forsook  her  whilom  haunts  about  the  spring  and  forest, 
and  started  up  in  terror  at  every  sudden  sound  ;  while  from 
each  opening  between  the  chestnut  trees  the  hazel  eyes  of 
the  dead  man,  and  the  wan  thin  face  of  the  golden-haired 
wife,  looked  out  beseechingly  at  her.     Frequently,  in  the 
warm  light  of  day,  ere  shadows  stalked  to  and  fro  in  the 
thick  woods,  she  would   steal,  with  an  apronful  of  wild 
flowers,  to  the  solitary  grave,  scatter  her  treasures  in  the 
rank  grass  that  waved  above  it,  and  hurry   away  with 
hushed  breath  and  quivering  limbs.     Summer  waned,  au- 
tumn passed,  and  winter  came,  but  the  girl  recovered  in  no 
degree  from  the  shock  which  had  cut  short  her  chant  of 
praise  on  that  bloody  June  day.     In  her  "morning  visit  to 
the  spring,  she  had  stumbled  upon  a  monster  which  custom 
had  adopted  and  petted — which  the  passions  and  sinfulness 
of  men  had  adroitly  draped  and  fondled,  and  called  Honor- 
able Satisfaction ;  but  her  pure,  unperverted,  Ithuriel  nature 
pierced  the  conventional  mask,  recognized  the  loathsome 
lineaments  of  crime,  and  recoiled  in  horror  and  amazement, 
wondering  at  the  wickedness  of  her  race  and  the  forbear-^ 
ance  of  outraged  Jehovah.     Innocent  childhood  had  for  the^ 
first  time  stood  face  to  face  with  Sic  and  Death,  and  could 
not  forget  the  vision. 


ST.  ELMO.  17 

Edna  Earl  had  lost  both  her  parents  before  she  was  old 
enough  to  remember  either.  Her  mother  was  the  only 
daughter  of  Aaron  Hunt,  the  village  blacksmith,  and  her 
father,  who  was  an  intelligent,  promising  young  carpenter, 
accidentally  fell  from  the  roof  of  the  house  which  he  was 
shingling,  and  died  from  the  injuries  sustained.  Thus  Mr. 
Hunt,  who  had  been  a  widower  for  nearly  ten  years,  found 
himself  burdened  with  the  care  of  an  infant  only  six 
months  old.  His  daughter  had  never  left  him,  and  after 
her  death  the  loneliness  of  the  house  oppressed  him  pain- 
fully, and  for  the  sake  of  his  grandchild  he  resolved  to 
marry  again.  The  middle-aged  widow  whom  he  selected 
was  a  kind-hearted  and  generous  woman,  but  indolent,  ig- 
norant, and  exceedingly  high-tempered ;  and  while  she 
really  loved  the  little  orphan  committed  to  her  care,  she 
contrived  to  alienate  her  affection,  .;nd  to  tighten  the  bonds 
of  union  between  her  husband  and  the  child.  Possessing 
a  remarkably  amiable  and  equable  disposition,  Edna  rarely 
vexed  Mrs.  Hunt,  who  gradually  left  her  more  and  more  to 
the  indulgence  of  her  own  views  and  caprices,  and  content- 
ed herself  with  exacting  a  certain  amount  of  daily  work, 
after  the  accomplishment  of  which  she  allowed  her  to 
amuse  herself  as  childish  whims  dictated.  There  chanced 
to  be  no  children  of  her  own  age  in  the  neighborhood,  con- 
sequently she  grew  up  without  companionship,  save  that 
furnished  by  her  grandfather;  who  was  dotingly  fond  of 
her,  and  would  have  utterly  spoiled  her,  had  not  her 
temperament  fortunately  been  one  not  easily  injured  by  un- 
restrained liberty  of  action.  Before  she  was  able  to  walk, 
he  would  take  her  to  the  forge,  and  keep  her  for  hours  on  a 
sheepskin  in  one  corner,  whence  she  watched,  with  infan- 
tine delight,  the  blast  of  the  furnace,  and  the  shower  of 
l^arks  that  fell  from  the  anvil,  and  where  she  often  slept, 
lulled  by  the  monotonous  chorus  of  trip  and  sledge.  Aa 
she  grew  older,  the  mystery  of  bellows  and  slack-tub  en- 
gaged her  attention,  and  at  one  end  of  the  shop,  on  a  pilu 


18  ST.  ELMO. 

of  shavings,  she  collected  a  mass  of  curiously  shaped  bits 
of  iron  and  steel,  and  blocks  of  wood,  from  which  a  minia- 
ture shop  threatened  to  rise  in  rivalry  ;  and  finally,  when 
strong  enough  to  grasp  the  handle  of  the  bellows,  her 
greatest  pleasure  consisted  in  rendering  the  feeble  assist- 
ance which  her  grandfather  was  always  so  proud  to  accept 
at  her  hands.  Although  ignorant  and  uncultivated,  Mr. 
Hunt  was  a  man  of  warm,  tender  feelings,  and  rare  nobility 
of  soul.  He  regretted  the  absence  of  early  advantages 
which  poverty  had  denied  him  ;  and  in  teaching  Edna  to 
read,  to  write,  and  to  cipher,  he  never  failed  to  impress 
upon  her  the  vast  superiority  which  a  thorough  educa- 
tion confers.  Whether  his  exhortations  first  kindled 
her  ambition,  or  whether  her  aspiration  for  knowledge  was 
spontaneous  and  irrepressible,  he  knew  not ;  but  she  mani- 
fested very  early  a  fondness  for  study  and  thirst  for  learn- 
ing, which  he  gratified  to  the  fullest  extent  of  his  limited 
ability.  The  blacksmith's  library  consisted  of  the  family 
Bible,  Pilgrim's  Progress,  a  copy  of  Irving's  Sermons 
on  Parables,  Guy  Mannering,  a  few  tracts,  and  two 
books  which  had  belonged  to  an  itinerant  minister  who 
preached  occasionally  in  the  neighborhood,  and  who  having 
died  rather  suddenly  at  Mr.  Hunt's  house,  left  the  volumes 
in  his  saddle-bags,  which  were  never  claimed  by  his  family, 
residing  in  a  distant  State.  Those  books  were  Plutarch's 
Lives  and  a  worn  school  copy  of  Anthon's  Classical  Dic- 
tionary ;  and  to  Edna  they  proved  a  literary  Ophir  of  ines- 
timable value  and  exhaustless  interest.  Plutarch  especially 
was  a  Pisgah  of  letters,  whence  the  vast  domain  of  learn- 
ing, the  Canaan  of  human  wisdom,  stretched  alluringly  be- 
fore her ;  and  as  often  as  she  climbed  this  height,  and  viewed 
the  wondrous  scene  beyond,  it  seemed  indeed 

"an  arch  wherethrough 

Gleams  that  nntraveled  world,  whose  margin  fades 
Forever  and  forever  when  we  move." 

In  after  years  she  sometimes  questioned  if  this  mount 


ST.  ELMO.  19 

of  observation  was  also  that  of  temptation,  to  which  ambi- 
tion had  led  her  spirit  and  there  bargained  for  and  bought 
her  future.  Love  of  nature,  love  of  books,  an  earnest  piety, 
and  deep  religious  enthusiasm,  were  the  characteristics  of  a 
noble  young  soul,  left  to  stray  through  the  devious,  checkered 
paths  of  life  without  other  guidance  than  that  which  she 
received  from  communion  with  Greek  sages  and  Hebrew 
prophets.  An  utter  stranger  to  fashionable  conventionality 
and  latitudinarian  ethics,  it  was  no  marvel  that  the  child 
stared  and  shivered  when  she  saw  the  laws  of  God  vetoed, 
and  was  blandly  introduced  to  murder  as  Honorable  Satis- 
faction. 


CHAPTER  H. 

EARLY  a  mile  from  the  small,  straggling  village 
of  Chattanooga  stood  Aaron  Hunt's  shop,  shaded 
by  a  grove  of  oak  and  chestn  it  trees,  which  grew 
upon  the  knoll,  where  two  roads  intersected.  Like 
the  majority  of  blacksmiths'  shops  at  country  cross-roads,  it 
was  a  low,  narrow  shed,  filled  with  dust  and  rubbish,  with  old 
wheels  and  new  single-trees,  broken  plows  and  dilapidated 
wagons  awaiting  repairs,  and  at  the  rear  of  the  shop  stood 
a  smaller  shed,  where  an  old  gray  horse  quietly  ate  his  corn 
and  fodder,  waiting  to  carry  the  master  to  his  home,  two 
miles  distant,  as  soon  as  the  sun  had  set  beyond  the  neigh- 
boring mountain.  Early  in  winter,  having  an  unusual 
amount  of  work  on  hand,  Mr.  Hunt  hurried  away  from 
home  one  morning,  neglecting  to  take  the  bucket  which 
contained  his  dinner,  and  Edna  was  sent  to  repair  the  over- 
sight. Accustomed  to  ramble  about  the  woods  without 
companionship,  she  walked  leisurely  along  the  rocky  road, 
swinging  the  tin  bucket  in  one  hand,  and  pausing  now  and 
then  to  watch  the  shy  red-birds  that  flitted  like  flame-jets  in 
and  out  of  the  trees  as  she  passed.  The  unbroken  repose 
of  earth  and  sky,  the  cold  still  atmosphere  and  peaceful 
sunshine,  touched  her  heart  with  a  sense  of  quiet  but  pure 
happiness,  and  half  unconsciously  she  began  a  hymn  which 
her  grandfather  often  sung  over  his  anvil : 


"  Lord,  in  the  morning  Thou  shalt  hear 
My  voice  ascending  high ; 


ST.  ELMO.  21 

To  Thee  will  I  direct  my  prayer, 
To  Th.ee  lift  up  mine  eye." 

Ere  the  first  verse  was  ended,  the  clatter  of  horse's  hoofs 
hushed  her  song,  and  she  glanced  up  as  a  harsh  voice  asked 
impatiently" : 

"Are  you  stone  deaf?  I  say,  is  there  a  blacksmith's 
shop  near  ?" 

The  rider  reined  in  his  horse,  a  spirited,  beautiful  animal, 
and  waited  for  an  answer. 

"Yes,  sir.  There  is  a  shop  about  half  a  mile  ahead,  on 
the  right  hand  side,  where  the  road  forks." 

He  just  touched  his  hat  with  the  end  of  his  gloved  fingers 
and  galloped  on.  When  Edna  reached  the  shop  she  saw 
her  grandfather  examining  the  horse's  shoes,  while  the 
stanger  walked  up  and  down  the  road  before  the  forge. 
He  was  a  very  tall,  strong  man,  with  a  gray  shawl  thrown 
over  one  shoulder,  and  a  black  fur  hat  drawn  so  far  over 
his  face  that  only  the  lower  portion  was  visible ;  and  this, 
swarthy  and  harsh,  left  a  most  disagreeable  impression  on 
the  child's  mind  as  she  passed  him  and  went  up  to  the  spot 
where  Mr.  Hunt  was  at  work.  Putting  the  bucket  behind 
her,  she  stooped,  kissed  him  on  his  furrowed  forehead,  and 
said: 

<c  Grandpa,  guess  what  brought  me  to  see  you  to-day  ?" 

"  I  forgot  my  dinner,  and  you  have  trudged  over  here  to 

bring  it.     An't  I  right,  Pearl  ?      Stand  back,  honey,  or  this 

Satan  of  a  horse  may  kick  your  brains  out.     I  can  hardly 

manage  him." 

Here  the  stranger  uttered  an  oath,  and  called  out,  "  How 
much  longer  do  you  intend  to  keep  me  waiting  ?" 

"  No  longer,  sir,  than  I  can  help,  as  I  like  the  company  of 
polite  people." 

"  O  grandpa !"  whispered  Edna  deprecatingly,  as  she 
saw  the  traveller  come  rapidly  forward  and  throw  his  shawl 
down  on  the  grass.     Mr.  Hunt  pushed  back  his  old  battered 


22  ST.  ELMO. 

woolen  hat,  and  looked  steadily  at  the  master  of  the  hois« 
— saying  gravely  and  resolutely : 

"  I'll  finish  the  job  as  soon  as  I  can,  and  that  is  as  much 
as  any  reasonable  man  would  ask.  Now,  sir,  if  that  doesn't 
suit  you,  you  can  take  your  horse  and  put  out,  and  swear  at 
somebody  else,  for  I  won't  stand  it." 

"It  is  a  cursed  nuisance  to  be  detained  here  for  such  a 
trifle  as  one  shoe,  and  you  might  hurry  yourself." 

"  Your  horse  is  very  restless  and  vicious,  and  I  could  shoe 
two  gentle  ones  while  I  am  trying  to  quiet  him." 

The  man  muttered  something  indistinctly,  and  laying  his 
hand  heavily  on  the  horse's  mane,  said  very  sternly  a  few 
words,  which  were  utterly  unintelligible  to  his  human 
listeners,  though  they  certainly  exerted  a  magical  influence 
over  the  fiery  creature,  who,  savage  as  the  pampered  pets  of 
Diomedes,  soon  stood  tranquil  and  contented,  rubbing  his 
head  against  his  master's  shoulder.  Repelled  by  the  rude 
harshness  of  this  man,  Edna  walked  into  the  shop,  and 
watched  the  silent  group  outside,  until  the  work  was  fin- 
ished and  Mr.  Hunt  threw  down  his  tools  and  wiped  hia 
face. 

"  What  do  I  owe  you  ?"  said  the  impatient  rider,  spring- 
ing to  his  saddle,  and  putting  his  hand  into  his  vest  pocket. 

"  I  charge  nothing  for  '  such  trifles'  as  that." 

"  But  I  am  in  the  habit  of  paying  for  my  work." 

"  It  is  not  worth  talking  about.     Good  day,  sir." 

Mr.  Hunt  turned  and  walked  into  his  shop. 

"There  is  a  dollar,  it  is  the  only  small  change  I  have," 
He  rode  up  to  the  door  of  the  shed,  threw  the  small  gold 
coin  toward  the  blacksmith,  and  was  riding  rapidly  away, 
when  Edna  darted  after  him,  exclaiming,  "  Stop,  sir !  you 
have  left  your  shawl !" 

He  turned  in  the  saddle,  and  even  under  the  screen  of  her 
calico  bonnet  she  felt  the  fiery  gleam  of  his  eyes,  as  ho 
6tooped  to  take  the  shawl  from  her  hand.  Once  more  his 
fingers  touched  his  hat,  he  bowed  and  said  hastily, 


ST.  ELMO.  23 

"  I  thank  you,  child."  Then  spurring  his  hoise,  he  was 
out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

"  He  is  a  rude,  blasphemous,  wicked  man,"  said  Mr.  Hunt 
as  Edna  reentered  the  shop,  and  picked  up  the  coin,  which 
lay  glistening  amid  the  cinders  around  the  anvil." 

"  Why  do  you  think  him  wicked  ?" 

"  No  good  man  swears  as  he  did,  before  you  came ;  and 
didn't  you  notice  the  vicious,  wicked  expression  of  his  eyes  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not  see  much  of  his  face,  he  never  looked 
at  me  but  once.  I  should  not  like  to  meet  him  again ;  I  am 
afraid  of  him." 

"  Never  fear,  Pearl,  he  is  a  stranger  here,  and  there's 
little  chance  of  your  ever  setting  your  eyes  on  his  ugly 
savage  face  again.  Keep  the  money,  dear ;  I  won't  have  it 
after  all  the  airs  he  put  on.  If,  instead  of  shoeing  his  wild 
brute,  I  had  knocked  the  fellow  down  for  his  insolence  in 
cursing  me,  it  would  have  served  him  right.  Politeness  is 
a  cheap  thing ;  and  a  'poor  man,  if  he  behaves  himself,  and 
does  his  work  well,  is  as  much  entitled  to  it  as  the  Presi- 
dent." 

"  I  will  give  the  dollar  to  grandma,  to  buy  a  new  coffee- 
pot ;  for  she  said  to-day  the  old  one  was  burnt  out,  and  she 
could  not  use  it  any  longer.  But  what  is  that  yonder  on 
the  grass  ?     That  man  left  something  after  all." 

She  picked  up  from  the  spot  where  he  had  thrown  his 
shawl  a  handsome  morocco-bound  pocket  copy  of  Dante , 
and  opening  it  to  discover  the  name  of  the  owner,  she  saw 
written  on  the  fly-leaf  in  a  bold  but  elegant  and  beautiful 
hand,  "  8.  E.  M.,  Boboli  Gardens,  Florence.  JLasciate  ogni 
speranza  voi  cK  entrate." 

"What  does  this  mean,  Grandpa?"  She  held  up  the 
book  and  pointed  out  the  words  of  the  dread  inscription. 

"  Indeed,  Pearl,  how  should  I  know  ?  It  is  Greek,  or  Latin, 
or  Dutch,  like  the  other  outlandish  gibberish  he  talked  to 
that  devilish  horse.  He  must  have  spent  his  life  among  the 
heathens,  to  judge  from  his  talk;   for  he  has  neither  man- 


24  ST.  ELMO. 

ners  nor  religion.     Honey,  better  put  the  book  there  in  th« 
furnace ;  it  is  not  fit  for  your  eyes." 

"He  may  come  back  for  it,  if  he  misses  it,  pretty  soon." 
"  Not  he.  One  might  almost  believe  that  he  was  running 
from  the  law.  He  would  not  turn  back  for  it  if  it  wa8 
bound  in  gold  instead  of  leather.  It  is  no  account,  I'll 
warrant,  or  he  would  not  have  been  reading  it,  the  ill-man- 
nered heathen !" 

Weeks  passed,  and  as  the  owner  was  not  heard  of  again, 
Edna  felt  that  she  might  justly  claim  as  her  own  this  most 
marvellous  of  books,  which,  though  beyond  her  comprehen- 
sion, furnished  a  source  of  endless  wonder  and  delight. 
The  copy  was  Gary's  translation,  with  illustrations  designed 
by  Flaxman ;  and  many  of  the  grand  gloomy  passages  were 
underlined  by  pencil  and  annotated  in  the  unknown  tongue, 
which  so  completely  baffled  her  curiosity.  Night  and  day 
she  pored  over  this  new  treasure ;  sometimes  dreaming  of 
the  hideous  faces  that  scowled  at  her  from  the  solemn, 
mournful  pages ;  and  anon,  when  startled  from  sleep  by  these 
awful  visions,  she  would  soothe  herself  to  rest  by  murmur- 
ing the  metrical  version  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  contained  in 
the  "  Purgatory."  Most  emphatically  did  Mrs.  Hunt  dis- 
approve of  the  studious  and  contemplative  habits  of  the 
ambitious  child,  who  she  averred  was  indulging  dreams 
and  aspirations  far  above  her  station  in  life,  and  well  calcu- 
lated to  dissatisfy  her  with  her  humble,  unpretending  home 
and  uninviting  future.  Education,  she  contended,  was  use- 
less to  poor  people,  who  could  not  feed  and  clothe  them- 
selves with  "  book  learning ;"  and  experience  had  taught 
her  that  those  who  lounged  about  with  books  in  their  hands 
generally  came  to  want,  and  invariably  to  harm.  It  was  in 
vain  that  she  endeavored  to  convince  her  husband  of  the 
impropriety  of  permitting  the  girl  to  spend  so  much  time 
over  her  books ;  he  finally  put  the  matter  at  rest  by  declar- 
ing that,  in  his  opinion,  Edna  was  a  remarkable  child  ;  and 
if  well  educated,  might  even  rise  to  the  position  of  teacher 


ST.  ELMO.  25 

for  the  neighborhood,  which  would  confer  most  honorable 
distinction  upon  the  family.  Laying  his  brawny  hand  fondly 
on  her  head,  he  said  tenderly :  "  Let  her  alone,  wife !  let 
her  alone !  You  will  make  us  proud  of  you,  won't  you, 
little  Pearl,  *vhen  you  are  smart  enough  to  teach  a  school  ? 
I  shall  be  too  old  to  work  by  that  time,  and  you  will  take 
care  of  me,  won't  you,  my  little  mocking-bird  ?" 

"O  Grandy!  that  I  will.  But  do  you  really  think  I 
ever  shall  ha^e  sense  enough  to  be  a  teacher  ?  You  know 
I  ought  to  learn  every  thing,  and  I  have  so  few  books." 

"  To  be  sure  you  will.  Remember  there  is  always  a  way 
where  there's  a  will.  When  I  pay  off  the  debt  I  owe  Peter 
Wood,  I  will  see  what  we  can  do  about  some  new  books. 
Put  on  your  shawl  now,  Pearl,  and  hunt  up  old  Brindle, 
it  is  milking  time,  and  she  is  not  in  sight." 

"  Grandpa,  are  you  sure  you  feel  better  this  evening  ?" 
She  plunged  her  fingers  in  his  thick  white  hair,  and  rubbed 
her  round  rosy  cheek  softly  against  his. 

"  Oh !  yes,  I  am  better.  Hurry  back,  Pearl,  I  want  you 
to  read  to  me." 

It  was  a  bright  day  in  January,  and  the  old  man  sat  in  a 
large  rocking-chair  on  the  porch,  smoking  his  pipe,  and  sun- 
ning himself  in  the  last  rays  of  the  sinking  sun.  He  had 
complained  all  day  of  not  feeling  well,  and  failed  to  go  to 
his  work  as  usual ;  and  now  as  his  grandchild  tied  her  pink 
calico  bonnet  under  her  chin,  and  wrapped  herself  in  her 
faded  plaid  shawl,  he  watched  her  with  a  tender  loving 
light  in  his  keen  gray  eyes.  She  kissed  him,  buttoned  his 
shirt-collar,  which  had  become  unfastened,  drew  his  home- 
spun coat  closer  to  his  throat,  and  springing  down  the  steps 
bounded  away  in  search  of  the  cow,  who  often  strayed  so 
far  off  that  she  was  dispatched  to  drive  her  home.  In  the 
grand,  peaceful,  solemn  woods,  through  which  the  wintry 
wind  now  sighed  in  a  soothing  monotone,  the  child's  spirit 
reached  an  exaltation  which,  had  she  lived  two  thousand 
years  earlier,  and  roamed  amid  the  vales  and  fastnesses  of 


26  ST.  ELMO, 

classic  Arcadia,  would  have  vented  itself  in  ilithyraiabk/a 
to  the  great  "  Lord  of  the  Hyle,"  the  Greek  "  All,"  the 
horned  and  hoofed  god,  Pan.  In  every  age,  and  among  all 
people — from  the  Parsee  devotees  and  the  Gosains  of  India 
to  the  Pantheism  of  Bruno,  Spinoza,  and  New-England's 
"Mlurninati  " — nature  has  been  apotheosized  ;  and  the  heart 
of  the  blacksmith's  untutored  darling  stirred  with  the  same 
emotions  of  awe  and  adoration  which  thrilled  the  worship- 
ers of  Hertha,  when  the  vailed  chariot  stood  in  Helgeland, 
and  which  made  the  groves  and  grottoes  of  Phrygia  sacred 
to  Dindymene.  Edna  loved  trees  and  flowers,  stars  and 
clouds,  with  a  warm  clinging  aifection,  as  she  loved  those 
of  her  own  race ;  and  that  solace  and  amusement  which 
most  children  find  in  the  society  of  children  and  the  sports 
of  childhood  this  girl  derived  from  the  solitude  and  se- 
renity of  nature.  To  her  woods  and  fields  were  indeed 
vocal,  and  every  flitting  bird  and  gurgling  brook,  every 
passing  cloud  and  whispering  breeze,  brought  messages  of 
God's  eternal  love  and  wisdom,  and  drew  her  tender  yearn- 
ing heart  more  closely  to  Jehovah,  the  Lord  God  Om- 
nipotent. To-day,  in  the  boundless  reverence  and  religious 
enthusiasm  of  her  character,  she  directed  her  steps  to  a 
large  spreading  oak,  now  leafless,  where  in  summer  she 
often  came  to  read  and  pray ;  and  here  falling  on  her  knees 
she  thanked  God  for  the  blessings  .showered  upon  her. 
Entirely  free  from  discontent  and  querulousness,  she  was 
thoroughly  happy  in  her  poor  humble  home,  and  over  all, 
like  a  consecration,  shone  the  devoted  love  for  her  grand- 
father, which  more  than  compensated  for  any  want  of  which 
she  might  otherwise  have  been  conscious.  Accustomed 
always  to  ask  special  favor  for  him,  his  name  now  passed 
her  lips  in  earnest  supplication,  and  she  fervently  thanked 
the  Father  that  his  threatened  illness  had  been  arrested 
without  serious  consequences.  The  sun  had  gone  down 
when  she  rose  and  hurried  on  in  search  of  the  cow.  The 
shadows  of  a  winter  evening  gathered  in  the  forest  and 


6T.  ELMO.  27 

climbed  like  trooping  spirits  up  the  rocky  mountain  side  • 
and  as  she  plunged  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  wcods,  the 
child  began  a  wild  cattle  call  which  she  was  wont  to  use 
on  such  occasions-  The  echoes  rang  out  a  weird  Brocken 
chorus,  and  at  last,  when  she  was  growing  impatient  of  the 
fruitless  search,  she  paused  to  listen,  and  heard  the  welcome 
sound  of  the  familiar  lowing,  by  which  the  old  cow  recog- 
nized her  summons.  Following  the  sound,  Edna  soon  saw 
the  missing  favorite  coming  slowly  toward  her,  and  ere 
many  moments  both  were  running  homeward.  As  she 
approached  the  house,  driving  Brindle  before  her,  and 
merrily  singing  her  rude  Manz  des  vaches,  the  moon  rose 
full  and  round,  and  threw  a  flood  of  light  over  the  porch 
where  the  blacksmith  still  sat.  Edna  took  off  her  bonnet 
and  waved  it  at  him,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  notice  the 
signal,  and  driving  the  cow  into  the  yard,  she  called  out  as 
she  latched  the  gate : 

"  Grandy,  dear,  why  don't  you  go  in  to  the  fire  ?  Are  yon 
waiting  for  me,  out  here  in  the  cold  ?  I  think  Brindle  cer- 
tainly must  have  been  cropping  grass  around  the  old  walls 
of  Jericho,  as  that  is  the  farthest  off  of  any  place  I  know. 
If  she  is  half  as  tired  and  hungry  as  I  am,  she  ought  to  be 
glad  to  get  home."  He  did  not  answer,  and  running  up 
the  steps  she  thought  he  had  fallen  asleep.  The  old  wool- 
en hat  shaded  his  face,  but  when  she  crept  on  tiptoe  to  the 
chair,  stooped,  put  her  arms  around  him,  and  kissed  his 
wrinkled  cheek,  she  started  back  in  terror.  The  eyes  stared 
at  the  moon,  the  stiff  fingers  clutched  the  pipe  from  which 
the  ashes  had  not  been  shaken,  and  the  face  was  cold  and 
rigid.  Aaron  Hunt  had  indeed  fallen  asleep,  to  wake  no 
more  amid  the  storms  and  woes  and  tears  of  time. 

Edna  fell  on  her  knees  and  grasped  the  icy  hands.  "  Grand- 
pa, wake  up  !  O  Grandpa !  speak  to  me,  your  little  pearl  I 
Wake  up,  dear  Grandy  !  I  have  come  back  !  My  Grand- 
pa!    Oh! " 

A  wild,  despairing  cry  rent  the  still  evening  air,  and 


28  ST.  ELMO. 

shrieked  dismally  back  from  the  distant  hills  and  ihe  gray 
ghostly  mountain — and  the  child  fell  on  her  face  at  the  dead 
man's  feet. 

Throughout  that  dreary  night  of  agony,  Edna  lay  on  the 
bed  where  her  grandfather's  body  had  been  placed,  holding 
one  of  the  stiffened  hands  folded  in  both  hers,  and  pressed 
against  her  lips.  She  neither  wept  nor  moaned,  the  shock 
was  too  terrible  to  admit  of  noisy  grief;  but  completely 
stunned,  she  lay  mute  and  desolate. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  could  not  pray ;  sha 
wanted  to  turn  away  from  the  thought  of  God  and  hea- 
ven, for  it  seemed  that  she  had  nothing  left  to  pray  for. 
That  silver-haired,  wrinkled  old  man  was  the  only 
father  she  had  ever  known;  he  had  cradled  her  in  his 
sinewy  arms,  and  slept  clasping  her  to  his  heart;  had 
taught  her  to  walk,  and  surrounded  her  with  his  warm, 
pitying  love,  making  a  home  of  peace  and  blessedness 
for  her  young  life.  Giving  him,  in  return,  the  whole  wealth 
of  her  affection,  he  had  become  the  centre  of  all  her  hopes, 
joys,  and  aspirations  ;  now  what  remained  ?  Bitter  rebel- 
lious feelings  hardened  her  heart  when  she  remembered 
that  even  while  she  was  kneeling,  thanking  God  for  his  pres- 
ervation from  illness,  he  had  already  passed  away  ;  nay, 
his  sanctified  spirit  probably  poised  its  wings  close  to  the 
Eternal  Throne,  and  listened  to  the  prayer  which  she  sent 
up  to  God  for  his  welfare  and  happiness  and  protection 
while  on  earth.  The  souls  of  our  dead  need  not  the  aid  of 
Sandalphon  to  interpret  the  whispers  that  rise  tremulously 
from  the  world  of  sin  and  wrestling,  that  float  up  among 
the  stars,  through  the  gates  of  pearl,  down  the  golden 
streets  of  the  New  Jerusalem.  So  we  all  trust,  and  prate 
of  our  faith,  and  deceive  ourselves  with  the  fond  hope  that 
we  are  resigned  to  the  Heavenly  Will ;  and  we  go  on  with 
a  show  of  Christian  reliance,  while  the  morning  sun  smiles 
in  gladness  and  plenty,  and  the  hymn  of  happy  days  and 
the  dear  voices  of  our  loved  ones  make  music  in  our  ears ; 


ST.  ELMO.  29 

and  lo !  God  puts  us  in  the  crucible.  The  lig.it  of  life — 
the  hope  of  all  future  years  is  blotted  out ;  clouds  of  despair 
and  the  grim  night  of  an  unbroken  and  unlifting  desolation 
fall  like  a  pall  on  heart  and  brain  ;  we  dare  not  look  heav 
enward,  dreading  another  blow;  our  anchor  drags,  we  drift 
out  into  a  hideous  Dead  Sea,  where  our  idol  has  gone  down 
forever — and  boasted  faith  and  trust  and  patience  are 
swept  like  straws  from  our  grasp  in  the  tempest  of  woe  ; 
while  our  human  love  cries  wolfishly  for  its  lost  darling, 
and  the  language  of  fierce  rebellion  is,  "  I  care  not  what  is 
left  or  taken  !  What  is  there  in  earth  or  heaven  to  hope 
or  to  pray  for  now  ?"  Ah  !  we  build  grand  and  gloomy 
mausoleums  for  our  precious  dead  hopes,  but,  like  Artemisia, 
we  refuse  to  sepulchre — we  devour  the  bitter  ashes  of  the 
lost,  and  grimly  and  audaciously  challenge  Jehovah  to  take 
the  worthless,  mutilated  life  that  his  wisdom  reserves  for 
other  aims  and  future  toils !  Job's  wife  is  immortal  and 
ubiquitous,  haunting  the  sorrow-shrouded  chamber  of  every 
stricken  human  soul,  and  fiendishly  prompting  the  bleeding, 
crushed  spirit  to  "  curse  God  and  die."  Edna  had  never 
contemplated  the  possibility  of  her  grandfather's  death — it 
was  a  horror  she  had  never  forced  herself  to  front;  and  now 
that  he  was  cut  down  in  an  instant,  without  even  the 
mournful  consolation  of  parting  words  and  farewell  kisses, 
she  asked  herself  again  and  again  :  "  What  have  I  done, 
that  God  should  punish  me  so  ?  I  thought  I  was  grateful, 
I  thought  I  was  doing  my  duty  ;  but  oh  !  what  dreadful 
sin  have  I  committed,  to  deserve  this  awful  affliction  ?" 
During  the  long  ghostly  watches  of  that  winter  night,  she 
recalled  her  past  life,  gilded  by  the  old  man's  love,  and 
could  remember  no  happiness  with  which  he  was  not  inti 
mately  connected,  and  no  sorrow  that  his  hand  had  not 
soothed  and  lightened.  The  future  was  now  a  blank,  cross- 
ed by  no  projected  paths,  lit  with  no  ray  of  hope ;  and  at 
daylight,  when  the  cold  pale  morning  showed  the  stony 
face  of  the  corpse  at  her  side,  her  unnatural  composure 


30  ST.  ELMO. 

broke  up  in  a  storm  of  passionate  woe,  and  she  sprang  to 
her  feet,  almost  frantic  with  the  sense  of  her  loss  : 

"  All  alone  !  nobody  to  love  me  !  nothing  to  look  forward 
to  \  O  Grandpa  !  did  you  hear  me  praying  for  you  yester- 
day ?  Dear  Grandy — my  own  dear  Grauc  y  !  I  did  pray  for 
you  while  you  were  dying — here  alone  !  O  my  God  !  what 
have  I  done,  that  you  should  take  him  away  from  me? 
Was  not  I  on  my  knees  when  he  died  ?  Oh  !  what  will 
become  of  me  now  ?  Nobody  to  care  for  Edna  now  !  0 
Grandpa  !  Grandpa !  beg  Jesus  to  ask  God  to  take  me  too !" 
And  throwing  up  her  clasped  hands,  she  sank  back  insensi- 
ble on  the  shrouded  form  of  the  dead. 

"  When  some  beloved  voice  that  was  to  you 
Both  sound  and  sweetness,  faileth  suddenly, 
And  silence,  against  which  you  dare  not  cry, 
Aches  round  you  like  a  strong  disease  and  new — 
What  hope  ?  what  help  ?  what  music  will  undo 
That  silence  to  your  senses  ?    Not  friendship's  sigh ; 
Not  reason's  subtle  count.     Nay,  none  of  these  1 
Sl»e»k  Thou,  availing  Christ !  and  fill  this  pause." 


CHAPTER    in. 


IF  all  that  transpired  during  many  ensuing  weeks 
Edna  knew  little.  She  retained,  in  after  years, 
only  a  vague,  confused  remembrance  of  keen 
anguish  and  utter  prostration,  and  an  abiding 
sense  of  irreparable  loss.  In  delirious  visions  she  saw  her 
grandfather  now  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  Phlegyas,  and 
now  writhing  in  the  fiery  tomb  of  Uberti,  with  jets  of 
flame  leaping  through  his  white  hair,  and  his  shrunken 
hands  stretched  appealingly  toward  her,  as  she  had  seen 
those  of  the  doomed  Ghibelline  leader,  in  the  hideous  Dante 
picture.  All  the  appalling  images  evoked  by  the  sombre 
and  embittered  imagination  of  the  gloomy  Tuscan  had 
seized  upon  her  fancy,  even  in  happy  hours,  and  were  now 
reproduced  by  her  disordered  brain  in  multitudinous  and 
aggravated  forms.  Her  wails  of  agony,  her  passionate 
prayers  to  God  to  release  the  beloved  spirit  from  the  tor- 
tures which  her  delirium  painted,  were  painful  beyond  ex- 
pression to  those  who  watched  her  ravings  ;  and  it  was  with 
a  feeling  of  relief  that  they  finally  saw  her  sink  into  apathy— 
into  a  quiet  mental  stupor — from  which  nothing  seemed  to 
rouse  her.  She  did  not  remark  Mrs.  Hunt's  absence,  or  the 
presence  of  the  neighbors  at  her  bedside.  And  one  morn* 
ing,  when  she  Was  wrapped  up  and  placed  by  the  fire,  Mrs. 
Wood  told  her  as  gently  as  possible  that  her  grandmother 
had  died  from  a  disease  which  was  ravaging  the  country, 
and  supposed  to  be  cholera.  The  intelligence  produced  no 
emotion  j  she  merely  looked  up  an  instant,  glanced  mcurn- 


32  ST.  ELMO. 

fully  around  the  dreary  room,  and,  shivering  slightly,  diooped 
her  head  again  on  her  hand.  Week  after  week  went  slowly 
by,  and  she  was  removed  to  Mrs.  Wood's  housa,  but  no  im- 
provement was  discernible,  and  the  belief  became  general 
that  the  child's  mind  had  sunk  into  hopeless  imbecility. 
The  kind-hearted  miller  and  his  wife  endeavored  to  coax 
her  out  of  her  chair  by  the  chimney-corner,  bux  she  crouched 
there,  a  wan,  mute  figure  of  woe,  pitiable  to  contemplate ; 
asking  no  questions,  causing  no  trouble,  receiving  no  con- 
solation. One  bright  March  morning  she  sat,  as  usual,  with 
her  face  bowed  on  her  thin  hand,  and  her  vacant  gaze  fixed 
on  the  blazing  fire,  when,  through  the  open  window,  came 
the  impatient  lowing  of  a  cow.  Mrs.  Wood  saw  a  change 
pass  swiftly  over  the  girl's  face,  and  a  quiver  cross  the  lips 
so  long  frozen.  She  lifted  her  head,  rose,  and  followed  the 
sound,  and  soon  stood  at  the  side  of  Brindle,  vrho  now  fur- 
nished milk  for  the  miller's  family.  As  the  gentle  cow  re- 
cognized and  looked  at  her,  with  an  expression  almost  hu- 
man in  the  mild,  liquid  eyes,  all  the  events  of  that  last 
serene  evening  swept  back  to  Edna's  deadened  memory, 
and,  leaning  her  head  on  Brindle's  horns,  she  sned  the  first 
tears  that  had  flowed  for  her  great  loss,  while,  sobs,  thick 
and  suffocating,  shook  her  feeble,  emaciated  frame. 

"Bless  the  poor  little  outcast,  she  will  get  well  now. 
That  is  just  exactly  what  she  needs.  I  .tell  yoa,  Peter,  one 
good  cry  like  that  is  worth  a  wagon-load  of  physic.  Don't 
go  near  her ;  let  her  have  her  cry  out.  Poor  thing  !  It 
an't  often  you  see  a  child  love  her  grand-aaddy  as  she 
loves  Aaron  Hunt.     Poor  lamb !" 

Mrs.  Wood  wiped  her  own  eyes,  and  went  back  to  her 
weaving  ;  and  Edna  turned  away  from  the  mill  and  walked 
to  her  deserted  home,  while  the  tears  poured  ceaselessly 
over  her  white  cheeks.  As  she  approached  the  old  house 
she  saw  that  it  was  shut  up  and  neglected ;  but  when  she 
opened  the  gate,  Grip,  the  fierce  yellow  terror  of  the 
whole  neighborhoodj  sprang  from  the  door-step,  where  he 


ST.  ELMO.  33 

kept  guard  as  tirelessly  as  Maida,  and,  with  a  disinal  whine 
of  welcome,  leaped  up  and  put  his  paws  on  her  shoulders. 
This  had  been  the  blacksmith's  pet,  fed  by  his  hand,  chained 
when  he  went  to  the  shop,  and  released  at  his  return ;  and 
grim  and  repulsively  ugly  though  he  was,  he  was  the  only 
playmate  Edna  had  ever  known;  had  gamboled  around 
her  cradle,  slept  with  her  on  the  sheepskin,  and  frolicked 
with  her  through  the  woods,  in  many  a  long  search  for 
Brindle.  He  alone  remained  of  all  the  happy  past;  and  as 
precious  memories  crowded  mournfully  up,  she  sat  upon  the 
steps  of  the  dreary  homestead,  with  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  wept  bitterly.  After  an  hour  she  left  the  house, 
and,  followed  by  the  dog,  crossed  the  woods  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  neighborhood  graveyard.  In  order  to  reach  it 
she  was  forced  to  pass  by  the  spring  and  the  green  hillock 
where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dent  slept  side  by  side,  but  no  nervous 
terror  seized  her  now  as  formerly ;  the  great  present  horror 
swallowed  up  all  others,  and,  though  she  trembled  from 
physical  debility,  she. dragged  herself  on  till  the  rude,  rough 
paling  of  the  burying-ground  stood  before  her.  O  dreary 
desolation !  thy  name  is  country  graveyard  !  Here  no 
polished  sculptured  stela  pointed  to  the  Eternal  Rest  be 
yond  ;  no  classic  marbles  told,  in  gilded  characters,  the  vir 
tues  of  the  dead ;  no  flowery-fringed  gravel-walks  wound 
from  murmuring  waterfalls  and  rippling  fountains  to  crys- 
tal lakes,  where  trailing  willows  threw  their  flickering 
shadows  over  silver-dusted  lilies ;  no  spicy  perfume  of  pur- 
ple heliotrope  and  starry  jasmine  burdened  the  silent  air ; 
none  of  the  solemn  beauties  and  soothing  charms  of  Green- 
wood or  Mount  Auburn  wooed  the  mourner  from  her 
weight  of  woe.  But  decaying  head-boards,  green  with  the 
lichen-fingered  touch  of  time,  leaned  over  neglected  mounds, 
where  last  year's  weeds  shivered  in  the  sighing  breeze,  and 
autumn  winds  and  winter  rains  had  drifted  a  brown  shroud 
of  shriveled  leaves;  while  here  and  there  meek-eyed  sheep 
lay  sunning  thems3lves  upon  the  trampled  graves,  and  the 


34  ST.  ELMO. 

slow-measured  sound  of  a  bell  dirged  now  and  then  as  cat- 
tle browsed  on  the  scanty  herbage  in  this  most  neglected 
of  God's  Acres.  Could  Charles  Lamb  have  turned  from  the 
pompous  epitaphs  and  high-flown  panegyrics  of  that  Eng- 
lish cemetery,  to  the  rudely-lettered  boards  which  here 
briefly  told  the  names  and  ages  of  the  sleepers  in  these  nar- 
row beds,  he  had  never  asked  the  question  which  now 
Btands  as  a  melancholy  epigram  on  family  favoritism  and 
human  frailty.  Gold  gilds  even  the  lineaments  and  haunts 
of  Death,  making  Pere  la  Chaise  a  favored  spot  for  fetes 
champetres  /  while  poverty  hangs  neither  vail  nor  mask 
over  the  grinning  ghoul,  and  flees,  superstition-spurred, 
from  the  hideous  precincts. 

In  one  corner  of  the  inclosure,  where  Edna's  parents 
slept,  she  found  the  new  mounds  that  covered  the  remains 
of  those  who  had  nurtured  and  guarded  her  young  life ; 
and  on  an  unpainted  board  was  written  in  large  letters : 

"  To  the  memory  of  Aaron  Hunt :  an  honest  blacksmith, 
and  true  Christian  ;  aged  sixty-eight  years  and  six  months." 

Here,  with  her  head  on  her  grandfather's  grave,  and  the 
faithful  dog  crouched  at  her  feet,  lay  the  orphan,  wrestling 
with  grief  and  loneliness,  striving  to  face  a  future  that 
loomed  before  her  spectre-thronged  ;  and  here  Mr.  Wood 
found  her  when  anxiety  at  her  long  absence  induced  his 
wife  to  institute  a  search  for  the  missing  invalid.  The 
storm  of  sobs  and  tears  had  spent  itself,  fortitude  took  the 
measure  of  the  burden  imposed,  shouldered  the  galling 
weight,  and  henceforth,  with"  un dimmed  vision,  walked 
steadily  to  the  appointed  goal.  The  miller  was  surprised 
to  find  her  so  calm,  and  as  they  went  homeward  she  asked 
the  particulars  of  all  that  had  occurred,  and  thanked  him 
grarely  but  cordially  for  all  the  kind  care  bestowed  upon 
her,  and  for  the  last  friendly  offices  performed  for  her 
grandfather. 

Conscious  of  her  complete  helplessness  and  physical  pros- 
tration, she  ventured  no  allusion  to  the  future,  but  waited 


ST.  ELMO.  35 

patiently  un/il  renewed  strength  permitted  the  execution 
of  designs  now  fully  mapped  out.  Notwithstanding  her 
feebleness,  she  rendered  herself  invaluable  to  Mrs.  Wood, 
who  praised  her  dexterity  and  neatness  as  a  seamstress, 
and  predicted  that  she  would  make  a  model  housekeeper. 

Late  one  Sunday  evening  in  May,  as  the  miller  and  his 
wife  sat  upon  the  steps  of  their  humble  and  comfortless 
looking  home,  they  saw  Edna  slowly  approaching,  and  sur- 
mised where  she  had  spent  the  afternoon.  Instead  of  going 
into  the  house  she  seated  herself  beside  them,  and,  removing 
her  bonnet,  traces  of  tears  were  visible  on  her  sad  but  pa- 
tient face. 

"  You  ought  not  to  go  over  yonder  so  often,  child.  It  is 
not  good  for  you,"  said  the  miller,  knocking  the  ashes  from 
his  pipe. 

She  shaded  her  countenance  with  her  hand,  and  after  a 
moment  said,  in  a  low  but  steady  tone  : 

"  I  shall  never  go  there  again.  I  have  said  good-by  to 
every  thing,  and  have  nothing  now  to  keep  me  here.  You 
and  Mrs.  Wood  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  thank 
you  heartily ;  but  you  have  a  family  of  children,  and  have 
your  hands  full  to  support  them  without  taking  care  of  me. 
I  know  that  our  house  must  go  to  you  to  pay  that  old  debt, 
and  even  the  horse  and  cow ;  and  there  will  be  nothing  left 
when  you  are  paid.  You  are  very  good,  indeed,  to  offer  me 
a  home  here,  and  I  never  can  forget  ycur  kindness ;  but  I 
should  not  be  willing  to  live  on  any  body's  charity ;  and 
besides,  all  the  world  is  alike  to  me  now,  and  I  want  to  get 
out  of  sight  of — of — what  shows  my  sorrow  to  me  every 
day.  I  don't  love  this  place  now ;  it  won't  let  me  forget, 
even  for  a  minute,  and — and " 

Here  the  voice  faltered  and  she  paused. 

"  But  where  could  you  go,  and  how  could  you  make 
your  bread,  you  poor  little  ailing  thing  ?" 

"I  hear  that  in  the  town  of  Columbus,  Georgia,  even 
little  children  get  wages  to  work  in  the  factory,  and  I  know 


36  &?■  ELMO. 

I  can  earn  enough  to  pay  my  board  among  the  iattoij 
people." 

"  But  you  are  too  young  to  be  straying  about  in  a  strange 
place.  If  you  will  stay  here,  and  help  my  wife  about  the 
nouse  and  the  weaving,  I  will  take  good  car::  of  you,  and 
clothe  you  till  you  are  grown  and  married." 

"  I  would  rather  go  away,  because  I  want  to  be  educated, 
and  I  can't  be  if  I  stay  here." 

"  Fiddlestiok !  you  will  know  as  much  as  the  balance  of 
us,  and  that's  all  you  will  ever  have  any  use  for.  I  notice 
you  have  a  hankering  after  books,  but  the  quicker  you  get 
that  foolishness  out  of  your  head  the  better;  for  books 
won't  put  bread  in  your  mouth  and  clothes  on  your  back ; 
and  folks  that  want  to  be  better  than  their  neighbors  gener- 
ally turn  out  worse.  The  less  book-learning  you  women 
have  the  better." 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  is  any  of  your  business,  Peter  Wood, 
how  much  learning  we  women  choose  to  get,  provided  your 
bread  is  baked  and  your  socks  darned  when  you  want  'em. 
A  woman  has  as  good  a  right  as  a  man  to  get  book-learn- 
ing, if  she  wants  it ;  and  as  for  sense,  I'll  thank  you,  mine  is 
as  good  as  yours  any  day  ;  and  folks  have  said  it  was  a 
blessed  thing  for  the  neighborhood  when  the  rheumatiz  laid 
Peter  Wood  up,  and  his  wife,  Dorothy  Elmivi  Wood,  run 
the  mill.  Now,  it's  of  no  earthly  use  to  cut  at  us  women 
over  that  child's  shoulders  ;  if  she  wants  an  education  she 
has  as  much  right  to  it  as  any  body,  if  she  ran  pay  for  it. 
My  doctrine  is,  every  body  has  a  right  to  whatever  they 
can  pay  for,  whether  it  is  schooling  or  a  satin  ..rock !" 

Mrs  Wood  seized  her  snuff-bottle  and  phriged  a  stick 
vigorously  into  the  contents,  and,  as  the  miller  showed  no 
disposition  to  skirmish,  she  continued  : 

"I  take  an  interest  in  you,  Edna  Earl,  berause  I  loved 
your  mother,  who  was  the  only  sweet-temuered  beauty 
that  ever  I  knew.  I  think  I  never  set  my  eyes  on  a  prettier 
face,  with  big  brown  eyes  as  meek  as  a  pai  ridge's ;  and 


ST.  ELMO.  37 

then  her  hanls  and  feet  were  as  small  as  a  queen  s.  New, 
as  long  as  you  are  satisfied  to  stay  here  I  shall  be  glad  to 
have  you,  and  I  will  do  as  well  for  you  as  for  my  own 
Tabitha ;  but,  if  you  are  bent  on  factory  work  and  school 
ing,  I  have  got  no  more  to  say ;  for  I  have  no  right  to  say 
where  you  shall  go  or  where  you  shall  stay.  But  one  thing 
I  do  want  to  tell  you :  it  is  a  serious  thing  for  a  poor,  moth- 
erless girl  to  be  all  alone  among  strangers." 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  and  Edna  answered  slowly : 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Wood,  I  know  it  is;  but  God  can  protect  mo 
there  as  well  as  here,  and  I  have  none  now  but  Him.  1 
have  made  up  my  mind  to  go,  because  I  think  it  is  the  best 
for  me,  and  I  hope  Mr.  Wood  will  carry  me  to  the  Chatta- 
nooga depot  to-morrow  morning,  as  the  train  leaves  early. 
I  have  a  little  money — seven  dollars — that — that  grandpa 
gave  me  at  different  times,  and  both  Brindle's  calves  belong 
to  me — he  gave  them  to  me — and  I  thought  may  be  you 
would  pay  me  a  few  dollars  for  them." 

"  But  you  are  not  ready  to  start  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  washed  and  ironed  my  clothes  yesterday,  and 
what  few  I  have  are  all  packed  in  my  box.  Every  thing  is 
ready  now,  and,  as  I  have  to  go,  I  might  as  well  start  to- 
morrow." 

"Don't  you  think  you  will  get  dreadfully  home-sick  in 
about  a  month,  and  write  to  me  to  come  and  fetch  you 
back  ?" 

"  I  have  no  home  and  nobody  to  love  me,  how  then  can  I 
ever  be  home-sick  ?  Grandpa's  grave  is  all  the  home  I 
have,  and — and — God  would  not  take  me  there  when  I  was 

so  sick,  and — and "     The  quiver  of  her  face  showed  that 

she  was  losing  her  self-control,  and  turning  away,  she  took 
the  cedar  piggin,  and  went  out  to  milk  Brindle  for  the  last 
time. 

Feeling  that  they  had  no  right  to  dictate  her  future 
course,  neither  'the  miller  nor  his  wife  offered  any  further 
apposition,  and  very    early  the  next   morning,  after  Mra 


88  ST.  ELMO. 

"Wood  had  given  the  girl  what  she  called  "  some  good 
motherly  advice,"  and  provided  her  with  a  basket  contain- 
ing food  for  the  journey,  she  kissed  her  heartily  several 
times  and  saw  her  stowed  away  in  the  miller's  covered  cart 
which  was  to  convey  her  to  the  depot.  The  road  ran  by 
the  old  blacksmith's  shop,  and  Mr.  Wood's  eyes  filled  as  he 
noticed  the  wistful,  lingering,  loving  gaze  which  the  girl 
fixed  upon  it,  until  a  grove  of  trees  shut  out  the  view; 
then  the  head  bowed  itself  and  a  stifled  moan  reached  his 
en.rs. 

The  engine,  whistled  as  they  approached  the  depot,  and 
Edna  was  hurried  aboard  the  train,  while  her  companion 
busied  himself  in  transferring  her  box  of  clothing  to  the 
baggage-car.  She  had  insisted  on  taking  her  grandfathers 
dog  with  her,  and,  notwithstanding  the  horrified  looks  of 
the  passengers  and  the  scowl  of  the  conductor,  he  followed 
her  into  the  car  and  threw  himself  under  the  seat,  glaring 
at  all  who  passeS  and  looking  as  hideously  savage  as  the 
Norse  Managarmar. 

"You  can't  have  a  whole  seat  to  yourself,  and  nobody 
wants  to  sit  near  that  ugly  brute,"  said  the  surly  con- 
ductor. 

Edna  glanced  down  the  aisle,  and  saw  two  young  gentle- 
men stretched  at  full  length  on  separate  seats,  eyeing  her 
curiously. 

Observing  that  the  small  seat  next  to  the  door  was  partially 
filled  with  the  baggage  of  the  parties  who  sat  in  front  of  it, 
she  rose  and  called  the  dog,  saying  to  the  conductor  as  she 
did  so ; 

"  I  will  take  that  half  of  a  seat  yonder,  where  I  will  be  in 
nobody's  way." 

Here  Mr.  Wood  came  forward,  thrust  her  ticket  into  her 
fingers,  and  shook  her  hand  warmly,  saying  hurriedly : 

"Hold  on  to  your  ticket,  and  don't  put  your  head  out  ol 

the  window.     I  told  the  conductor  he  must  look  after  you 

ad  your  box  when  you  left  the  cars;   said   he    would, 


8T.  ELMO  89 

Good-by,  Edna ;  take  care  of  yoursseJ",  and  may  Gtoi  bless 
you,  child." 

The  locomotive  whistled,  the  train  moved  slowly  on,  and 
the  miller  hastened  back  to  his  cart. 

As  the  engine  got  fully  under  way,  and  dashed  around  a 
curve,  the  small,  straggling  village  disappeared,  trees  and 
hills  seemed  to  the  orphan  to  fly  past  the  window ;  and 
when  she  leaned  out  and  looked  back,  only  the  mist-mantled 
rocks  of  Lookout,  and  the  dim  purplish  outline  of  the  Se- 
quatchie heights  were  familiar. 

In  the  shadow  of  that  solitary  sentinel  peak  her  life  had 
been  passed ;  she  had  gathered  chestnuts  and  chincapins 
among  its  wooded  clefts,  and  clambered  over  its  gray 
boulders •  as  fearlessly  as  the  young  llamas  of  the  Parime ; 
and  now,  as  it  rapidly  receded  and  finally  vanished,  she 
felt  as  if  the  last  link  that  bound  her  to  the  past  had  sud- 
denly snapped ;  the  last  friendly  face  which  had  daily  looked 
down  on  her  for  twelve  years  was  shut  out  forever,  and  she 
and  Grip  were  indeed  alone,  in  a  great  struggling  world  of 
selfishness  and  sin.  The  sun  shone  dazzlingly  over  wide 
fields  of  grain,  whose  green  billows  swelled  and  surged 
under  the  freshening  breeze ;  golden  butterflies  fluttered 
over  the  pink  and  blue  morning-glories  that  festooned  the 
rail-fences ;  a  brakeman  whistled  merrily  on  the  platform, 
and  children  inside  the  car  prattled  and  played,  while  at 
one  end  a  slender  little  girlish  figure,  in  homespun  dress 
and  pink  calico  bonnet,  crouched  in  a  corner  of  the  seat, 
staring  back  in  the  direction  of  hooded  Lookout,  feeling  that 
each  instant  bore  her  farther  from  the  dear  graves  of  her 
dead ;  and  oppressed  with  an  intolerable  sense  of  desolation 
and  utter  isolation  in  the  midst  of  hundreds  of  her  own  race, 
who  were  too  entirely  absorbed  in  their  individual  specula 
tions,  fears,  and  aims,  to  spare  even  a  glance  at  that  solitary 
young  mariner,  who  saw  the  last  headland  fade  from  view. 
and  found  herself,  with  no  pilot  but  ambition,  drifting  rapid- 
ly out  on  the  great,  unknown,  treacherous  Sea  of  Life,  strewn 


40  ST.  ELMO. 

with  mournful  human  wrecks,  whom  the  charts  and  buoy  s 
of  six  thousand  years  of  navigation  could  not  guide  to  a 
haven  of  usefulness  and  peace.  Interminable  seemed  the 
dreary  day,  which  finally  drew  to  a  close,  and  Edna,  who 
was  weary  of  her  cramped  position,  laid  her  aching  head  on 
the  window-sill,  and  watched  the  red  light  of  day  die  in  the 
west,  where  a  young  moon  hung  her  silvery  crescent  among 
the  dusky  tree-tops,  and  the  stars  flashed  out  thick  and  fast. 
Far  away  among  strangers,  uncared  for  and  unnoticed,  come 
what  might,  she  felt  that  God's  changeless  stars  smiled  down 
as  lovingly  upon  her  face  as  on  her  grandfather's  grave  ; 
and  that  the  cosmopolitan  language  of  nature  knew  neither 
the  modifications  of  time  and  space,  the  distinctions  of  social 
caste,  nor  the  limitations  of  national  dialects. 

As  the  night  wore  on,  she  opened  the  cherished  copy  of 
Dante  and  tried  to  read,  but  the  print  was  too  fine  for  the 
dim  lamp  which  hung  at  some  distance  from  her  corner. 
Her  head  ached  violently,  and,  as  sleep  was  impossible,  she 
put  the  book  back  in  her  pocket,  and  watched  the  flitting 
trees  and  fences,  rocky  banks,  and  occasional  houses,  which 
seemed  weird  in  the  darkness.  As  silence  deepened  in  the 
car,  her  sense  of  loneliness  became  more  and  more  painful, 
and  finally  she  turned  and  pressed  her  cheek  against  the 
fair  chubby  hand  of  a  baby,  who  slept  with  its  curly  head 
on  its  mother's  shoulder,  and  its  little  dimpled  arm  and  hand 
hanging  over  the  back  of  the  seat.  There  was  comfort  and 
a  soothing  sensation  of  human  companionship  in  the  touch 
of  that  baby's  hand ;  it  seemed  a  link  in  the  electric  chain 
of  sympathy,  and,  after  a  time,  the  orphan's  eyes  closed — ■ 
fatigue  conquered  memory  and  sorrow,  and  she  fell  asleep, 
with  her  lips  pressed  to  those  mesmeric  baby  fingers,  and 
Grip's  head  resting  against  her  knee. 

Diamond-powdered  "  lilies  of  the  field  "  folded  their  pei 
fumed  petals  under  the  Syrian  dew,  wherewith  God  nightly 
baptized  them  in  token  of  His  ceaseless  guardianship,  and 
the  sinless  world   of  birds,  the  "  fowls  of  the  air,"  those 


ST.  ELMO.  41 

secure  and  blithe,  yet  improvident,  little  gle^r  era  ::n  S-oI'a 
granary,  nestled  serenely  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty 
wing;  but  was  the  all-seeing,  all-directing  Eye  likewise 
upon  that  desolate  and  destitute  young  mourner  who  sank 
to  rest  with  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven  "  upon  her 
trembling  lips  ?  Was  it  a  decree  in  the  will  and  wisdom 
of  our  God,  or  a  fiat  from  the  blind  fumbling  of  Atheistic 
Chance,  or  was  it  in  accordance  with  the  rigid  edict  of 
Pantheistic  Necessity,  that  at  that  instant  the  cherubim  of 
death  swooped  down  on  the  sleeping  passengers,  and 
silver  cords  and  golden  bowls  were  rudely  snapped  and 
crushed,  amid  the  crash  of  timbers,  the  screams  of  women 
and  children,  and  the  groans  of  tortured  men,  that  made 
night  hideous?  Over  the  holy  hills  of  Judea,  out  of 
crumbling  Jerusalem,  the  message  of  Messiah  has  floated 
on  the  wings  of  eighteen  centuries :  "  What  I  do  thou 
knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter." 

Edna  was  awakened  by  a  succession  of  shrill  sounds, 
which  indicated  that  the  engineer  was  either  frightened  or 
frantic ;  the  conductor  rushed  bare-headed  through  the 
car ;  people  sprang  to  their  feet ;  there  was  a  scramble  on 
the  platform ;  then  a  shock  and  crash  as  if  the  day  of  dcom 
had  dawned — and  all  was  chaos ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 


'WED  by  the  aid  of  lanterns  and  the  lurid, 
flickering  light  of  torches,  the  scene  of  disaster 
presented  a  ghastly  debris  of  dead  and  dying, 
of  crushed  cars  and  wounded  men  and  women, 
who  writhed  and  groaned  among  the  shattered  timbers 
from  which  they  found  it  impossible  to  extricate  themselves. 
The  cries  of  those  who  recognized  relatives  in  the  muti- 
lated corpses  that  were  dragged  out  from  the  wreck  in- 
creased the  horrors  of  the  occasion ;  and  when  Edna  opened 
her  eyes  amid  the  flaring  of  torches  and  the  piercing  wails 
of  the  bereaved  passengers,  her  first  impression  was,  that 
she  had  died  and  gone  to  Dante's  "  Hell ;"  but  the  pangs 
that  seized  her  when  she  attempted  to  move  soon  dispelled 
this  frightful  illusion,  and  by  degrees  the  truth  presented 
itself  to  her  blunted  faculties.  She  was  held  fast  between 
timbers,  one  of  which  seemed  to  have  fallen  across  her  feet 
and  crushed  them,  as  she  was  unable  to  move  them,  and 
was  conscious  of  a  horrible  sensation  of  numbness  ;  one 
arm,  too,  was  pinioned  at  her  side,  and  something  heavy 
and  cold  lay  upon  her  throat  and  chest.  Lifting  this 
weight  with  her  uninjured  hand,  she  uttered  an  exclamation 
of  horror  as  the  white  face  of  the  little  baby  whose  fingers 
she  had  clasped  now  met  her  astonished  gaze  ;  and  she 
saw  that  the  sweet  coral  lips  were  pinched  and  purple,  the 
waxen  lids  lay  rigid  over  the  blue  eyes,  and  the  dimpled 
hand  was  stiff  and  icy.  The  confusion  increased  as  day 
broke,  and  a  large  crowd  collected  to  offer  assistance,  and 


ST.  ELMO.  43 

Edna  watched  her  approaching  deliverers  as  .hey  ju„. their 
way  through  the  wreck  and  lifted  out  the  wretched  suffer- 
ers. Finally  two  men,  with  axes  in  their  hands,  bent  down 
and  looked  into  her  face. 

"Here  is  a  live  child  and  a  dead  baby  wedged  in  between 
these  beams  !     Are  you  much  hurt,  little  one  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  am.     Please  take  this  log  off  my  feet." 

It  was  a  difficult  matter,  but  at  length  strong  arms  raised 
her,  carried  her  some  distance  from  the  ruins,  and  placed 
her  on  the  grass,  where  several  other  persons  were  writhing 
and  groaning.  The  collision,  which  precipitated  the  train 
from  trestle-work  over  a  deep  ravine,  had  occurred  near  a 
village  depot,  and  two  physicians  were  busily  engaged  in 
examining  the  wounded.  The  sun  had  risen,  and  shone 
full  on  Edna's  pale  suffering  face,  when  one  of  the  surgeons, 
with  a  countenance  that  indexed  earnest  sympathy  and 
compassion,  came  to  investigate  the  extent  of  her  injuries, 
and  sat  down  on  the  grass  beside  her.  Yery  tenderly  he 
handled  her,  and  after  a  few  moments  said  gently : 

"  I  am  obliged  to  hurt  you  a  little,  my  child,  for  your 
shoulder  is  dislocated,  and  some  of  the  bones  are  broken  in 
your  feet ;  but  I  will  be  as  tender  as  possible.  Here,  Len- 
nox !  help  me." 

The  pain  was  so  intense  that  she  fainted,  and  after  a 
short  time,  when  she  recovered  her  consciousness,  her  feet 
and  ankles  were  tightly  bandaged,  and  the  doctor  was 
chafing  her  hands  and  bathing  her  face  with  some  powerful 
extract.     Smoothing  back  her  hair,  he  said : 

"  Were  your  parents  on  the  cars  ?  Do  you  know  whe- 
ther they  are  hurt  ?  " 

"  They  both  died  when  I  was  a  baby." 

"  Who  was  with  you  ?" 

"  Nobody  but  Grip — my  dog." 

"  Had  you  no  relatives  or  friends  on  the  train  ?" 

"  I  have  none.     I  am  all  alone  in  the  world." 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ?" 


44  ^T7.  JLMO. 

"  Chattanooga." 

"  Where  were  you  going  ?" 

"  My  grandpa  died,  and  as  I  had  nobody  to  take  care  of 
me,  I  was  going  to  Columbus,  to  work  in  the  cotton  fac- 
tory." 

"  Humph !  Much  work  you  will  do  for  many  a  long 
day." 

He  stroked  his  grayish  beard,  and  mused  a  moment,  and 
Edna  said  timidly : 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  would  like  to  knew  if  my  dog  is 
hurt  ?" 

The  physician  smiled,  and  looked  around  inquiringly  : 

"  Has  any  one  seen  a  dog  that  was  on  the  train  ?" 

One  of  the  brakemen,  a  stout  Irishman,  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  answered  : 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !  and  as  vicious  a  brute  as  ever  I  set  eyes 
on.  Both  his  hind-legs  were  smashed — dragged  so — and 
I  tapped  him  on  the  head  with  an  ax  to  put  him  out  of  his 
misery.     Yonder  he  lies  now  on  the  track." 

Edna  put  her  hand  over  her  eyes,  and  turned  her  face 
down  on  the  grass  to  hide  tears  that  would  not  be 
driven  back.  Here  the  surgeon  wras  called  away,  and  for  a 
half  hour  the  child  lay  there,  wondering  what  would  be- 
come of  her,  in  her  present  crippled  and  helpless  condition, 
and  questioning  in  her  heart  why  G-od  did  not  take  her  in- 
stead of  that  dimpled  darling,  whose  parents  were  now 
weeping  so  bitterly  for  the  untimely  death  that  mowed 
their  blossom  ere  its  petals  were  expanded.  The  chilling 
belief  was  fast  gaining  ground  that  God  had  cursed  and 
forsaken  her;  that  misfortune  and  bereavement  would  dog 
her  steps  through  life  ;  and  a  hard,  bitter  expression  settled 
about  her  mouth,  and  looked  out  gloomily  from  the  sad 
eyes.  Her  painful  reverie  was  interrupted  by  the  cheery 
voice  of  Dr.  Rodney,  who  came  back,  accompanied  by  an 
elegantly-dressed  middle-aged  lady. 

"  Ah  my  brave  little  soldier  !     Tell  us  your  name  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  45 

"  Edna  Earl." 

"Have  you  no  relatives?"  asked  the  lady,  sloping  to 
scrutinize  her  face. 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  She  is  a  very  pretty  child,  Mrs.  Murray,  and  if  you  can 
take  care  of  her,  even  for  a  few  weeks,  until  she  is  able  to 
walk  about,  it  will  be  a  real  charity.  I  never  saw  so  much 
fortitude  displayed  by  one  so  young  ;  but  her  fever  is  in- 
creasing, and  she  needs  immediate  attention.  Will  it  be 
convenient  for  you  to  carry  her  to  your  house  at  once  ?" 

"  Certainly,  doctor  ;  order  the  carriage  driven  up  as  close 
as  possible.  1  brought  a  small  mattress,  and  think  the  ride 
will  not  be  very  painful.  What  splendid  eyes  she  has! 
Poor  little  thing  !  Of  course  you  will  come  and  prescribe 
for  her,  and  I  will  see  that  she.  is  carefully  nursed  until  she 
is  quite  well  again.  Here,  Henry,  you  and  Richard  must 
lift  this  child,  and  put  her  on  the  mattress  in  the  carriage. 
Mind  you  do  not  stumble  and  hurt  her." 

During  the  ride  neither  spoke,  and  Edna  was  in  so  much 
pain  that  she  lay  with  her  eyes  closed.  As  they  entered  a 
long  avenue,  the  rattle  of  the  wheels  on  the  gravel  aroused 
the  child's  attention,  and  when  the  carriage  stopped,  and 
she  was  carried  up  a  flight  of  broad  marble  steps,  she  saw 
that  the  house  was  very  large  and  handsome. 

"  Bring  her  into  the  room  next  to  mine,"  said  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray, leading  tne  way. 

Edna  was  soon  undressed  and  placed  within  the  snowy 
sheets  of  a  heavily-carved  bedstead,  whose  crimson  canopy 
shed  a  ruby  light  down  on  the  laced  and  ruffled  pillows 
Mrs.  Murray  administered  a  dose  of  medicine  given  to  her 
by  Dr.  Rodney,  and  after  closing  the  blinds  to  exclude  the 
light,  she  felt  the  girl's  pulse,  found  that  she  had  fallen  into 
a  heavy  sleep,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  went  down  to  take 
her  breakfast.  It  was  several  hours  before  Edna  awoke, 
and  when  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  around  the 
elegantly  furnished  and  beautiful  room,  she  felt  bewildered. 


46  ST.  ELMO. 

Mrs.  Murray  sat  in  a  cushioned  chair,  near  one  of  tne  win 
dows,  with  a  book  in  her  hand,  and  Edna  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  studying  her  face.  It  was  fair,  proud,  and  hand- 
some, but  wore  an  expression  of  habitual  anxiety ;  and 
gray  hairs  showed  themselves  under  the  costly  lace  that 
bordered  her  morning  head-dress,  while  lines  of  care  marked 
her  brow  and  mouth.  Children  instinctively  decipher  the 
hieroglyphics  which  time  carves  on  human  faces,  and,  in 
reading  the  countenance  of  her  hostess,  Edna  felt  that  she 
was  a  haughty,  ambitious  woman,  with  a  kind  but  not  very 
warm  heart,  who  would  be  scrupulously  attentive  to  the 
wants  of  a  sick  child,  but  would  probably  never  dream  of 
caressing  or  fondling  such  a  charge.  Chancing  to  glance 
towards  the  bed  as  she  turned  a  leaf,  Mrs.  Murray  met  the 
curious  gaze  fastened  upon  her,  and,  rising,  approached  the 
sufferer. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Edna  ?    I  believe  that  is  your  name." 

"  Thank  you,  my  head  is  better,  but  I  am  very  thirsty." 

The  lady  of  the  house  gave  her  some  ice- water  in  a  silver 
goblet,  and  ordered  a  servant  to  bring  up  the  refreshments 
she  had  directed  prepared.  As  she  felt  the  girl's  pulse, 
Edna  noticed  how  white  and  soft  her  hands  were,  and  how 
dazzlingly  the  jewels  flashed  on  her  fingers,  and  she  longed 
for  the  touch  of  those  aristocratic  hands  on  her  hot  brow 
where  the  hair  clustered  so  heavily. 

"  How  old  are  you,  Edna  ?" 

"Almost  thirteen." 

"  Had  you  any  baggage  on  the  train  ?" 

"  I  had  a  small  box  of  clothes." 

"  I  will  send  a  servant  for  it."  She  rang  the  bell  as  she 
spoke. 

"  When  do  you  think  I  shall  be  able  to  wa'  k  about  ?" 

"  Probably  not  for  many  weeks.  If  you  need  or  wish 
any  thing  you  must  not  hesitate  to  ask  for  it.  A  servant 
will  sit  here,  and  you  have  only  to  tell  her  what  you 
want." 


ST.  ELMO.  17 

"  You  are  very  kind,  ma'am,  and  I  thank  you  v  ery  much  — " 
She  paused,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Mrs.  Murray  looked  at  her  and  said  gravely : 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child  ?" 

"  I  am  only  sorry  I  was  so  ungrateful  and  wicked  thU 
morning." 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  Oh  !  every  thing  that  I  love  dies ;  and  when  I  lay  there  on 
the  grass,  unable  to  move,  among  strangers  who  knew  and 
cared  nothing  about  me,  I  was  wicked,  and  would  not  try  to 
pray,  and  thought  God  wanted  to  make  me  suffer  all  my  life  ; 
and  I  wished  that  I  had  been  killed  instead  of  that  dear  little 
baby,  who  had  a  father  and  mother  to  kiss  and  to  love  it. 
It  was  all  wrong  to  feel  so,  but  I  was  so  wretched.  And 
then  God  raised  up  friends  even  among  strangers,  and 
shows  me  I  am  not  forsaken  if  I  am  desolate.  I  begin  to 
think  Pie  took  every  body  away  from  me,  that  I  might  see 
how  He  could  take  care  of  me  without  them.  I  know  'He 
doeth  all  things  well,'  but  I  feel  it  now ;  and  I  am  so  sorry 
I  could  not  trust  Him  without  seeing  it." 

Edna  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  Mrs.  Murray's  voice 
faltered  slightly  as  she  said  : 

"You  are  a  good  little  girl,  I  have  no  doubt.  Who 
taught  you  to  be  so  religious  ?" 

"^Grandpa." 

"  How  long  since  you  lost  him  ?" 

"  Four  months." 

"  Can  you  read "?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,  ma'am." 

"  Well,  I  shall  send  you  a  Bible,  and  you  must  make  your- 
self as  contented  as  possible.  I  shall  take  good  care  of 
you." 

As  the  hostess  left  the  room  a  staid-looking,  elderly  negro 
woman  took  a  seat  at  the  window  and  sewed  silently, 
now  and  then  glancing  toward  the  bed.  Exhausted  with 
pain  and  fatigue,  Edna  slept  again,  and  it  was  night  when 


48  ST.  ELMO. 

she  opened  her  eyes  and  found  Dr.  Rodney  and  Mrs  Mui« 
ray  at  her  pillow.  The  kind  surgeon  talked  pleasantly  for 
some  time,  and,  after  giving  ample  instructions,  took  his 
leave,  exhorting  his  patient  to  keep  up  her  fortitude  and 
all  would  soon  be  well.  So  passed  the  first  day  of  her  so- 
journ under  the  hospitable  roof  which  appeared  so  fortu- 
itously to  shelter  her  ;  and  the  child  thanked  God  fervent- 
ly for  the  kind  hands  into  which  she  had  fallen.  Day  after 
day  wore  wearily  away,  and  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight, 
though  much  prostrated  by  fever  and  suffering,  she  was 
propped  up  in  bed  by  pillows  while  Hagar,  the  servant, 
combed  and  plaited  the  long,  thick,  matted  hair.  Mrs. 
Murray  came  often  to  the  room,  but  her  visits  were  short, 
and  though  invariably  kind  and  considerate,  Edna  felt  an 
involuntary  awe  of  her,  which  rendered  her  manner  ex- 
ceedingly constrained  when  they  were  together.  Hagar 
was  almost  as  taciturn  as  her  mistress,  and  as  the  girl  asked 
few  questions,  she  remained  in  complete  ignorance  of  the 
household  affairs,  and  had  never  seen  any  one  but  Mrs. 
Murray,  Hagar,  and  the  doctor.  She  was  well  supplied 
with  books,  which  the  former  brought  from  the  library, 
and  thus  the  invalid  contrived  to  amuse  herself  during  the 
iong  tedious  summer  days.  One  afternoon  in  June  Edna 
persuaded  Hagar  to  lift  her  to  a  large  cushioned  chair  close 
to  the  open  window  which  looked  out  on  the  lawn  ;  and 
here,  with  a  book  on  her  lap,  she  sat  gazing  out  at  the  soft 
blue  sky,  the  waving  elm  boughs,  and  the  glittering  plum 
age  of  a  beautiful  Himalayan  pheasant,  which  seemed  in 
ihat  golden  sunshine  to  have  forgotten  the  rosy  glow  of  his 
native  snows.  Leaning  her  elbows  on  the  window-sill, 
Edna  rested  her  face  in  her  palms,  and  after  a  few  minutes 
a  tide  of  tender  memories  rose  and  swept  over  her  heart, 
bringing  a  touching  expression  of  patient  sorrow  to  her  sweet, 
wan  face,  and  giving  a  far-off  wistful  look  to  the  beautiful 
eyes  where  tears  often  gathered  but  very  rarely  fell.  Hagar 
had  dressed  her  in  a  new  white  muslin  wrapper,  with  fluted 


ST.  ELMO.  49 

ruffles  at  the  wrists  and  throat ;  and  the  fair  young  face, 
with  its  delicate  features,  and  glossy  folds  of  soft  hair,  was 
a  pleasant  picture,  which  the  nurse  loved  to  contemplate. 
Standing  with  her  work-hasket  in  her  hand,  she  watched 
the  graceful  little  figure  for  two  or  three  moments,  and  a 
warm,  loving  light  shone  out  over  her  black  features  ;  then 
nodding  her  head  resolutely,  she  muttered  : 

"  I  will  have  my  way  this  once ;  she  shall  stay,"  and 
passed  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door  behind  her.  Edna 
did  not  remark  her  departure,  for  memory  was  busy  among 
the  ashes  of  Qther  days,  exhuming  a  thousand  precious 
reminiscences  of  mountain  home,  chestnut-groves,  showers 
of  sparks  fringing  an  anvil  with  fire,  and  an  old  man's  un- 
painted  head-board  in  the  deserted  burying-ground.  She 
started  nervously  when,  a  half-hour  later,  Mrs.  Murray  laid 
her  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder  and  said  : 

"  Child,  of  what  are  you  thinking  ?" 

For  an  instant  she  could  not  command  her  voice,  which 
faltered  ;  but  making  a  strong  effort,  she  answered  in  a  low 
tone : 

"  Of  all  that  I  have  lost,  and  what  I  am  to  do  in  future." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  work  all  your  life  in  a  factory  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am ;  only  long  enough  to  educate  myself,  so 
that  I  could  teach." 

"  You  could  not  obtain  a  suitable  education  in  that  way  ; 
and  besides,  I  do  not  think  that  the  factory  you  spoke  of 
would  be  an  agreeable  place  for  you.  I  have  made  some 
inquiries  about  it  since  you  came  here." 

"  I  know  it  will  not  be  pleasant,  but  then  I  am  obliged  to 
work  in  some  way,  and  I  don't  see  what  else  I  can  do.  I 
am  not  able  to  pay  for  an  education  now,  and  I  am  deter- 
mined to  have  one." 

Mrs.  Murray's  eyes  wandered  out  toward  the  velvety 
lawn,  and  she  mused  for  some  minutes ;  then  laying  her 
hands  on  the  orphan's  head,  she  said : 

"  Child,  will   you  trust  your  future  and  your  education 


50  -87.  ELMO. 

to  me  ?  I  do  not  mean  that  I  will  teach  you — oh !  no  -•  but 
t  will  have  you  thoroughly  educated,  so  that  when  you  are 
grown  you  can  support  yourself  by  teaching.  I  have  no 
daughter — I  lost  mine  when  she  was  a  babe  ;  but  I  could  not 
have  seen  her  enter  a  factory,  and  as  you  remind  me  of  my 
own  child,  I  will  not  allow  you  to  go  there.  I  will  take 
care  of  and  educate  you — will  see  that  you  have  every  thing 
you  require,  if  you  are  willing  to  be  directed  and  advised 
by  me.  Understand  me,  I  do  not  adopt  you ;  nor  shall  I 
consider  you  exactly  as  one  of  my  family ;  but  I  shall  prove 
a  good  friend  and  protector  till  you  are  eighteen,  and  capa- 
ble of  providing  for  yourself.  You  will  live  in  my  house 
and  look  upon  it  as  your  home,  at  least  for  the  present. 
What  do  you  say  to  this  plan  ?  Is  it  not  much  better  and 
more  pleasant  than  your  wild-goose  chase  after  an  educa- 
tion through  the  dust  and  din  of  a  factory  ?" 

"  O  Mrs.  Murray  !  You  are  very  generous  and  good, 
but  I  have  no  claim  on  you— no  right  to  impose  such  an  ex 
pense  and  trouble  upon  you !     I  am — ■. — " 

"Hush,  child !  you  have  that  claim  which  poverty  always 
has  on  wealth.  As  for  the  expense,  that  is  a  mere  trifle,  and 
I  do  not  expect  you  to  give  me  any  trouble ;  perhaps  you 
may  even  make  yourself  useful  to  me." 

"  Thank  you !  oh !  thank  you,  ma'am !  I  am  very  grateful ! 
I  can  not  tell  you  how  much  I  thank  you  ;  but  I  shall  try 
to  prove  it,  if  you  will  let  me  stay  here — on  one  condition." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  That  when  I  am  able  to  pay  you,  you  will  receive  the 
money  that  my  education  and  clothes  will  cost  you." 

Mrs.  Murray  laughed,  and  stroked  the  silky  black  hair. 

"  Where  did  you  get  such  proud  notions  ?  Pay  me,  in- 
deed !  You  poor  little  beggar !  Ida !  ha !  ha !  Well, 
yes,  you  may  do  as  you  please,  when  you  are  able ;  but  that 
time  is  rather  too  distant  to  be  considered  now.  Meanwhile, 
quit  grieving  over  the  past,  and  think  only  of  improving 
yourself.     I  do  not  like  doleful  faces,  and  shall  expect  you 


ST.  ELMO.  5| 

to  "be  a  cheerful,  contented,  and  obediiiit  gn..  Hjtgar  la 
making  you  an  entire  set  of  new  clothes,  and  I  hope  to  see 
you  always  neat.  I  shall  give  you  a  smaller  room  than  this — 
the  one  across  the  hall;  you  will  keep  your  books  there, 
and  remain  there  during  study  hours.  At  other  times  you 
can  come  to  my  room,  or  amuse  yourself  as  you  like ;  and 
when  there  is  company  here,  remember,  I  shall  always  ex- 
pect you  to  sit  quietly,  and  listen  to  the  conversation,  as  it 
is  very  improving  to  young  girls  to  be  in  really  good  so- 
ciety. You  will  have  a  music  teacher,  and  practice  on  the 
upright  piano  in  the  library,  instead  of  the  large  one  in  the 
parlor.  One  thing  more  if  you  want  any  thing,  come  to 
me,  and  ask  for  it,  and  1  shall  be  very  much  displeased  ii 
you  talk  to  the  servants,  or  encourage  them  to  talk  to  you. 
Now  every  thing  is  understood,  and  I  hope  you  will  be 
happy,  and  properly  improve  the  advantages  I  shall  give 
you." 

Edna  drew  one  of  the  white  hands  down  to  her  lips  and 
murmured : 

"  Thank  you — thank  you  !  You  shall  never  have  cause  to 
regret  your  goodness ;  and  your  wishes  shall  always  guide 
me." 

"  Well,  well ;  I  shall  remember  .this  promise,  and  trust  I 
may  never  find  it  necessary  to  remind  you  of  it.  I  dare 
say  we  shall  get  on  very  happily  together.  Don't  thank 
me  any  more,  and  hereafter  we  need  not  speak  of  the 
matter." 

Mrs.  Murray  stooped,  and  for  the  first  time  kissed  the 
child's  white  forehead ;  and  Edna  longed  to  throw  her  arms 
about  the  stately  form,  but  the  polished  hautetir  awed  and 
repelled  her. 

Before  she  could  reply,  and  just  as  Mrs.  Murray  was 
moving  toward  the  door,  it  was  thrown  open,  and  a  gen- 
tleman strode  into  the  room.  At  sight  of  Edna  he  stopped 
suddenly,  and  chopping  a  bag  of  game  on  the  floor,  ex- 
claimed harshlv : 


52  ST.  ELMO. 

"  What  the  d — 1  does  this  mean  ?" 

"  My  son  !  I  am  so  glad  you  are  at  home  again  I  waa 
getting  quite  uneasy  at  your  long  absence.  This  is  cne  of 
the  victims  of  that  terrible  railroad  disaster  ;  the  neigh 
borhood  is  fall  of  the  sufferers.  Come  to  my  room.  When 
did  you  arrive  ?" 

She  linked  her  arm  in  his,  picked  up  the  game-bag,  and 
led  him  to  the  adjoining  room,  the  door  of  which  she  closed 
and  locked. 

A  painfal  thrill  shot  along  Edna's  nerves,  and  an  inde- 
scribable sensation  of  dread,  a  presentiment  of  coming  ill, 
overshadowed  her  heart.  This  was  the  son  of  her  friend, 
and  the  first  glimpse  of  him  filled  her  with  instantaneous  re- 
pugnance ;  there  was  an  innate  and  powerful  repulsion  which 
she  could  not  analyze.  He  was  a  tall,  athletic  man,  not  ex- 
actly young,  yet  certainly  not  elderly;  one  of  anomalous 
appearance,  prematurely  old,  and,  though  not  one  white 
thread  silvered  his  thick,  waving,  brown  hair,  the  heavy 
and  habitual  scowl  on  his  high  fall  brow  had  plowed 
deep  farrows  such  as  age  claims  for  its  monogram.  His 
features  were  bold  but  very  regular ;  the  piercing,  steel-gray 
eyes  were  unusually  large,  and  beautifully  shaded  with  long, 
heavy,  black  lashes,  but  repelled  by  their  cynical  glare  ; 
and  the  finely-formed  mouth,  which  might  have  imparted  a 
wonderful  charm  to  the  countenance,  wore  a  chronic,  savage 
sneer,  as  if  it  only  opened  to  utter  jeers  and  curses.  Evi- 
dently the  face  had  once  been  singularly  handsome,  in  the 
dawn  of  his  earthly  career,  when  his  mother's  good-night 
kiss  rested  like  a  blessing  on  his  smooth,  boyish  forehead, 
and  the  prayer  learned  in  the  nursery  still  crept  across  his 
pure  lips ;  but  now  the  fair  chiseled  lineaments  were 
blotted  by  dissipation,  and  blackened  and  distorted  by  the 
baleful  fires  of  a  fierce,  passionate  nature,  and  a  restless, 
powerful,  and  unhallowed  intellect.  Symmetrical  and 
grand  as  that  temple  cf  Juno,  in  shrouded  Pompeii,  whose 
polished  shafts  gleamed  centuries  ago  in  the  morn.ug  sun- 


ST.  SLMO.  53 

tshine  of  a  day  of  woe,  whose  untimely  night  has  endured 
for  nineteen  hundred  years ;  so,  in  the  glorious  flush  of  his 
youth,  this  man  had  stood  facing  a  noble  and  possibly  a 
sanctified  future;  but.  the  ungovernable  flames  of  sin  had  re- 
duced him,  like  that  darkened  and  desecrated  fane,  to  a 
melancholy  mass  of  ashy  arches  and  blackened  columns, 
where  ministering  priests,  all  holy  aspirations,  slumbered 
in  the  dust.  His  dress  was  costly  but  negligent,  and  the 
red  stain  on  his  jacket  told  that  his  hunt  had  not  been  fruit- 
less. He  wore  a  straw  hat,  belted  with  broad  black  rib- 
bon, and  his  spurred  boots  were  damp  and  muddy. 

What  was  there  about  this  surly  son  of  her  hostess 
which  recalled  to  Edna's  mind,  her  grandfather's  words, 
"  He  is  a  rude,  wicked,  blasphemous  man"  ?  She  had  not 
distinctly  seen  the  face  of  the  visitor  at  the  shop  ;  but  some- 
thing in  the  impatient,  querulous  tone,  in  the  hasty,  haughty 
step,  and  the  proud  lifting  of  the  regal  head,  reminded  her 
painfully  of  him  whose  overbearing  insolence  had  so  un- 
wontedly  stirred  the  ire  of  Aaron  Hunt's  genial  and  gen- 
erally equable  nature.  While  she  pondered  this  inexplica- 
ble coincidence,  voices  startled  her  from  the  next  room, 
whence  the  sound  floated  through  the  window. 

"  If  you  were  not  my  mother,  I  should  say  you  were  a 
candidate  for  a  strait-jacket  and  a  lunatic  asylum;  but  as 
those  amiable  proclivities  are  considered  hereditary,  I  do 
not  favor  that  comparison.  '  Sorry  for  her,'  indeed  !  I'll 
bet  my  right  arm  it  will  not  be  six  weeks  before  she  makes 
you  infinitely  sorrier  for  your  deluded  self;  and  you  will 
treat  me  to  a  new  version  of  ije  me  regrette  ! '  With  your 
knowledge  of  this  precious  world  and  its  holy  crew,  I  con- 
fess it  seems  farcical  in  the  extreme  that  open-eyed  you  can 
venture  another  experiment  on  human  nature.  Some  fine 
morning  you  will  rub  your  eyes  aiid  find  your  acolyte  non 
est ;  ditto,  your  silver  forks,  diamonds,  and  gold  spoons." 

Edna  felt  the  indignant  blood  burning  in  her  cheeks,  and 
as  she  could  not  walk  without  assistance,  and  shrank  from 


54  ST.  ELMO. 

listening  to  a  conversation  which  was  not  intended  for  hei 
ears,  she  coughed  several  times  to  arrest  the  attention  ol 
the  speakers,  but  apparently  without  effect,  for  the  son's 
voice  again  rose  above  the  low  tones  of  the  mother. 

"  O  carnival  of  shams  !  She  is  '  pious,'  you  say  ?  Then, 
I'll  swear  my  watch  is  not  safe  in  my  pocket,  and  I  shall 
sleep  with  the  key  of  my  cameo  cabinet  tied  around  my 
neck.  A  Paris  police  would  not  insure  your  valuables  01 
mine.  The  fates( forbid  that  your  pen-feathered  saint  should 
decamp  with  some  of  my  costly  travel-scrapings !  '  Pious,' 
indeed !  '  Edna,'  forsooth !  No  doubt  her  origin  and 
morals  are  quite  as  apocryphal  as  her  name.  Don't  talk  to 
me  about  '  her  being  providentially  thrown  into  your 
hands,'  unless  you  desire  to  hear  me  say  things  which  you 
have  frequently  taken  occasion  to  inform  me  '  deeply  griev- 
ed '  you.  I  daresay  the  little  vagrant  whines  in  what  she 
considers  orthodox  phraseology,  that  '  God  tempers  the 
wind  to  the  shorn  lamb  !'  and,  like  some  other  pious  people 
whom  I  have  heard  canting,  will  saddle  some  Jewish  pro- 
phet or  fisherman  with  the  dictum,  thinking  that  it  sounds 
like  the  Bible,  whereas  Sterne  said  it.  Shorn  lamb,  for- 
sooth !  We,  or  rather  you,  madame,  ma  mere,  will  be 
shorn — thoroughly  fleeced !     Pious!     Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Here  followed  an  earnest  expostulation  from  Mrs.  Murray, 
only  a  few  words  of  which  were  audible^  and  once  more  the 
deep,  strong,  bitter  tones  rejoined: 

"'Interfere!  Pardon  me,  I  am  only  too  happy  to  stand 
aloof  and  watch  the  little  wretch  play  out  her  game.  Most 
certainly  it  is  your  own  affair,  but  you  will  permit  me  to 
be  amused,  will  you  not  ?  And  with  your  accustomed 
suavity  forgive  me,  if  I  chance  inadvertently  to  whisper 
above  my  breath,  'ie  jeu  ri'en  vaut  pas  la  chandelle''  f 
What  the  deuce  do  you  suppose  I  care  about  her  'faith'? 
She  may  run  through  the  whole  catalogue  from  the  mustard* 
seed  size  up,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  and  you  may  make 


UT.  ELMO.  55 

yourself  easy  on  the  score  of  my  '  contaminating '  the  sanc- 
tified vagrant!" 

"  St.  Elmo !  my  son !  promise  me  that  you  will  not  scoff 
and  sneer  at  her  religion ;  at  least  in  her  presence,"  pleaded 
the  mother. 

A  ringing,  mirthless  laugh  was  the  only  reply  that  reached 
the  girl,  as  she  put  her  fingers  in  her  ears  and  hid  her  face 
on  the  window-sill. 

It  was  no  longer  possible  to  doubt  the  identity  of  the 
stranger  ;  the  initials  on  the  fly-leaf  meant  St.  Elmo  Murray ; 
and  she  knew  that  in  the  son  of  her  friend  and  protectress 
she  had  found  the  owner  of  her  Dante  and  the  man  who  had 
cursed  her  grandfather  for  his  tardiness.  If  she  had  only 
known  this  one  hour  earlier,  she  would  have  declined  the 
offer,  which  once  accepted,  she  knew  not  how  to  reject, 
without  acquainting  Mrs.  Murray  with  the  fact  that  she 
had  overheard  the  conversation ;  and  yet  she  could  not 
endure  the  prospect  of  living  under  the  same  roof  with  a 
man  whom  she  loathed  and  feared.  The  memory  of  the 
blacksmith's  aversion  to  this  stranger  intensified  her  own; 
and  as  she  pondered  in  shame  and  indignation  the  scornful 
and  opprobrious  epithets  which  he  had  bestowed  on  herself, 
she  muttered  through  her  set  teeth : 

"  Yes,  Grandy  !  he  is  cruel  and  wicked  ;  and  I  never  can 
bear  to  look  at  or  speak  to  him !  How  dared  he  curse  my 
dear,  dear,  good  grandpa  !  How  can  I  ever  be  respectful  to 
him,  when  he  is  not  even  respectful  to  his  own  mother !  Oh ! 
I  wish  I  had  never  come  here !  I  shall  always  hate  him  I" 
At  this  juncture  Hagar  entered,  and  lifted  her  back  to 
her  couch ;  and,  remarking  the  agitation  of  her  manner, 
the  nurse  said  gravely,  as  she  put  her  fingers  on  the  girl's 
pulse : 

"  What  has  flushed  you  so  ?  Your  face  is  hot ;  you  have 
tired  yourself  sitting  up  too  long.  Did  a  gentleman  come 
into  this  room  a  while  ago  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Murray's  son." 


56  ST.  ELMO. 

"Did  Miss  Ellen — that  is,  my  mistress — .ell  you  that  yen 
were  to  live  here,  and  get  your  education  ?" 

"  Yes,  she  offered  to  take  care  of  me  for  a  few  years." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  it  is  fixed,  so — you  can  stay ;  for  you 
can  be  a  great  comfort  to  Miss  Ellen,  if  you  try  to  please 
her." 

She  paused,  and  busied  herself  about  the  room,  and  re- 
membering Mrs.  Murray's  injunction  that  she  should  dis- 
courage conversation  on  the  part  of  the  servants,  Edna 
turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and  shut  her  eyes.  But  for 
once  Hagar's  habitual  silence  and  non-committalism  were 
laid  aside ;  and,  stooping  over  the  couch,  she  said  hurriedly. 

"  Listen  to  me,  child,  for  I  like  your  patient  ways,  and 
want  to  give  you  a  friendly  warning  ;  you  are  a  stranger  in 
this  house,  and  might  stumble  into  trouble.  Whatever  else 
you  do,  be  sure  not  to  cross  Mass  Elmo's  path !  Keep  out 
of  his  way,  and  he  will  keep  out  of  yours ;  for  he  is  shy 
enough  of  strangers,  and  would  walk  a  mile  to  keep  from 
meeting  any  body ;  but  if  he  finds  you  in  his  way,  he  will 
walk  roughshod  right  over  you — trample  you.  Nothing 
ever  stops  him  one  minute  when  he  makes  up  his  mind.  Pie 
does  not  even  wait  to  listen  to  his  mother,  and  she  is  about 
the  only  person  who  dares  to  talk  to  bim.  He  hates  every 
body  and  every  thing ;  but  he  doesn't  tread  on  folks'  toes 
unless  they  are  where  they  don't  belong.  He  is  like  a  rattle- 
snake that  crawls  in  his  own  track,  and  bites  every  thing  that 
meddles  or  crosses  his  trail.  Above  every  thing,  child,  for 
the  love  of  peace  and  heaven,  don't  argue  with  him  !  If  he 
says  black  is  white,  don't  contradict  him ;  and  if  he  swears 
water  runs  up-stream,  let  him  swear,  and  don't  know  it  runs 
down.  Keep  out  of  his  sight,  and  you  will  do  well  enough  • 
but  once  make  him  mad.  and  you  had  better  fight  Satan 
hand  to  hand  with  red-hot  pitchforks  !  Every  body  is  afraid 
of  him,  and  gives  way  to  him,  and  you  must  do  like  the 
balance  that  have  to  deal  with  him.  I  nursed  him ;  but  I 
would  rather  put  my  head  in  a  wolf's  jaws  than  stir  him 


ST.  ELMO.  57 

ap ;  and  God  knows  I  wish  he  had  died  when  he  was  a  Daby 
instead  of  living  to  grow  up  the  sinful,  swearing,  raging 
devil  he  is !  'Now  mind  what  I  say.  I  am  not  given  to 
talking,  but  this  time  it  is  for  your  good.  Mind  what  I  tell 
you,  child ;  and  if  you  want  to  have  peace,  keep  out  of  his 
way." 

She  left  the  room  abruptly,  and  the  orphan  lay  in  the 
gathering  gloom  of  twilight,  perplexed,  distressed,  and 
wondering  how  she  could  avoid  all  the  angularities  of  this 
amiable  character,  under  whose  roof  fate  seemed  to  have 
deposited  her. 


CHAPTER  V. 


T  length,  by  the  aid  Df  crutches,  Edna  was 
able  to  leave  the  room  where  she  had  been  so 
long  confined,  and  explore  the  house  in  which 
every  day  discovered  some  new  charm.  The 
parlors  and  sitting-room  opened  on  a  long,  arched  ve- 
randah, which  extended  around  two  sides  of  the  building, 
and  was  paved  with  variegated  tiles  ;  while  the  stained 
glass  doors  of  the  dining-room,  with  its  lofty  frescoed  ceil- 
ing and  deep  bow-windows,  led  by  two  white  niarble  steps 
out  on  the  terrace,  whence  two  more  steps  showed  the  be- 
ginning of  a  serpentine  gravel  walk  winding  down  to  an 
octagonal  hot-house,  surmounted  by  a  richly  carved  pagoda- 
roof.  Two  sentinel  statues — a  Bacchus  and  Bacchante — 
placed  on  the  terrace,  guarded  the  entrance  to  the  dining- 
room  ;  and  in  front  of  the  house,  where  a  sculptured  Triton 
threw  jets  of  water  into  a  gleaming  circular  basin,  a  pair 
of  crouching  monsters  glared  from  the  steps.  When  Edn? 
first  found  herself  before  these  grim  doorkeepers,  she 
started  back  in  unfeigned  terror,  and  could  scarcely  repress 
a  cry  of  alarm,  for  +he  howling  rage  and  despair  of  the 
distorted  hideous  heads  seemed  fearfully  real,  and  years 
elapsed  before  she  comprehended  their  significance,  or  the 
sombre  mood  which  impelled  their  creation.  They  were 
imitations  of  that  monumental  lion's  head,  raised  on  the 
battle-field  of  Chseroneia,  to  commemorate  the  Boeotians 
slain.  In  the  rear  of  and  adjoining  the  library,  a  narrow, 
vaulted   passage    with   high  Gothic  windows  of  stained 


ST.  ELMO.  59 

glass,  opened  into  a  "beautifully  proportioned  rotunda;  and 
beyond  this  circular  apartment  with  its  ruby-tinted  sky- 
Mght  and  Moresque  frescoes,  extended  two  other  rooms,  of 
whose  shape  or  contents  Edna  knew  nothing,  save  the  tall 
arched  windows  that  looked  doAvn  on  the  terrace.  The 
door  of  the  rotunda  was  generally  closed,  but  accidentally 
it  stood  open  one  morning,  and  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
circular  form  and  the  springing  dome.  Evidently  this  por- 
tion of  the  mansion  had  been  recently  built,  while  the  re- 
mainder of  the  house  had  been  constructed  many  years 
earlier ;  but  all  desire  to  explore  it  was  extinguished  when 
Mrs.  Murray  remarked  one  day : 

"  That  passage  leads  to  my  son's  apartments,  and  he  dis- 
likes noise  or  intrusion." 

Thenceforth  Edna  avoided  it  as  if  the  plagues  of  Pharaoh 
were  pent  therein.  To  her  dazzled  eyes  this  luxurious  home 
was  a  fairy  palace,  an  enchanted  region,  and,  with  eager 
curiosity  and  boundless  admiration,  she  gazed  upon  beau- 
tiful articles  whose  use  she  could  not  even  conjecture.  The 
furniture  throughout  the  mansion  was  elegant  and  costly ; 
pictures,  statues,  bronzes,  marble,  silver,  rosewood,  ebony, 
mosaics,  satin,  velvet — naught  that  the  most  fastidious  and 
cultivated  taste  or  dilettanteism  could  suggest,  or  lavish 
expenditure  supply,  was  wanting ;  while  the  elaborate  and 
beautiful  arrangement  of  the  extensive  grounds  showed  with 
how  prodigal  a  hand  the  owner  squandered  a  princely 
fortune.  The  flower-garden  and  lawn  comprised  fifteen 
acres,  and  the  subdivisions  were  formed  entirely  by  hedges, 
Bave  that  portion  of  the  park,  surrounded  by  a  tall  iron 
railing,  where  congregated  a  motley  menagerie  of  deer, 
bison,  a  Lapland  reindeer,  a  Peruvian  llama,  some  Cash- 
mere goats,  a  chamois,  wounded  and  caught  on  the  Jung- 
frau,  and  a  large  white  cow  from  Ava.  This  part  pf  the 
inclosure  was  thickly  studded  with  large  oaks,  groups  of 
beech'  and  elm,  and  a  few  enormous  cedars  which  would 
not  have  shamed  their  sacred  prototypes  sighing  in  Syrian 


60  ST.  ELMO. 

breezes  along  the  rocky  gorges  of  Lebanon.  The  branches 
were  low  and  spreading,  and  even  at  mid-day  the  sunshine 
barely  freckled  the  cool,  mossy  knolls  where  the  animals 
sought  refuge  from  the  summer  heat  of  the  open  and 
smoothly-shaven  lawn.  Here  and  there,  on  the  soft,  green 
sward,  was  presented  that  vegetable  antithesis,  a  circlet 
of  martinet  poplars  standing  vis-a-vis  to  a  clump  of  willows 
whose  long  hah'  threw  quivering,  fringy  shadows  when  the 
slanting  rays  of  dying  sunlight  burnished  the  white  and 
purple  petals  nestling  among  the  clover  tufts.  Rustic 
seats  of  bark,  cane,  and  metal  were  scattered  through  the 
grounds,  and  where  the  well-trimmed  numerous  hedges 
divided  \he  parterre,  china,  marble,  and  iron  vases  of  varied 
mould  held  rare  creepers  and  lovely  exotics ;  and  rich 
masses  of  roses  swung  their  fragrant  chalices  of  crimson  and 
gold,  rivaling  the  glory  of  Psestum  and  of  Bendemeer.  The 
elevation  upon  which  the  house  was  placed  commanded  an 
extensive  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  Far  away  to 
the  north-east  purplish  gray  waves  along  the  sky  showed 
the  range  of  lofty  hills,  whose  rocky  battlements  were  not 
yet  scarred  and  branded  by  the  red  hand  of  fratricidal  war ; 
and  in  an  easterly  direction,  scarcely  two  miles  distant, 
glittering  spires  told  where  the  village  clung  to  the  rail- 
road, and  to  a  deep  rushing  creek,  whose  sinuous  course 
was  distinctly  marked  by  the  dense  growth  that  clothed 
its  steep  banks.  Kcrw  and  then  luxuriant  fields  of  corn 
covered  the  level  lands  with  an  emerald  mantle,  while 
sheep  and  cattle  roamed  through  the  adjacent  champaign ; 
and  in  the  calm,  cool  morning  air,  a  black  smoke-serpent 
crawled  above  the  tree-tops,  mapping  out  the  track  over 
which  the  long  train  of  cars  darted  and  thundered.  Mr. 
Paul  Murray,  the  first  proprietor  of  the  estate,  and  father  of 
the  present  owner,  had  early  in  life  spent  much  time  in 
France,  where,  espousing  the  royalist  cause,  his  sympathies 
were  fully  enlisted  by  the  desperate  daring  of  Charette, 
Stofflet,  and  Cathelineau,     On  his  return  to  his  native  land 


ST.  ELMO.  61 

fns  admiration  of  the  heroism  of  those  who  dwelt  upon  the 
Loire,  found  expression  in  one  of  their  sobriquets,  "Le 
Bocage,"  which  he  gave  to  his  country  residence ;  and  cer- 
tainly the  venerable  groves  that  surrounded  it  justified  the 
application.  While  his  own  fortune  was  handsome  and 
abundant,  he  married  the  orphan  of  a  rich  banker,  who  sur- 
vived her  father  only  a  short  time,  and  died  leaving  Mr. 
Murray  childless.  After  a  few  years,  when  the  frosts  of 
age  fell  upon  his  head,  he  married  a  handsome  and  very 
wealthy  widow ;  but,  unfortunately,  having  lost  their  first 
child,  a  daughter,  he  lived  only  long  enough  to  hear  the 
infantile  prattle  of  his  son,  St.  Elmo,  to  whom  he  be- 
queathed an  immense  fortune,  which  many  succeeding 
years  of  reckless  expenditure  had  failed  to  materially  im- 
pair. Such  was  "  Le  Bocage,"  naturally  a  beautiful  situa- 
tion, improved  and  embellished  with  every  thing  which 
refined  taste  and  world-wide  travel  could  suggest  to  the 
fastidious  owner.  But  notwithstanding  the  countless  charms 
of  the  home  so  benevolently  offered  to  her,  the  blacksmith's 
granddaughter  was  conscious  of  a  great  need,  scarcely  to 
be  explained,  yet  fully  felt — the  dreary  lack  of  that  which 
she  had  yet  to  learn  could  not  be  purchased  by  the  trea- 
sures of  Oude — the  priceless  peace  and  genial  glow  which 
only  the  contented,  happy  hearts  of  its  inmates  can  diffuse 
over  even  a  palatial  homestead.  She  also  realized,  without 
analyzing  the  fact,  that  the  majestic  repose  and  boundless 
spontaneity  of  nature  yielded  a  sense  of  companionship  al- 
most of  tender,  dumb  sympathy,  which  all  the  polished  ar- 
tificialities and  recherche  arrangements  of  man  utterly  failed 
to  furnish.  While  dazzled  by  the  glitter  and  splendor  of  "  Le 
Bocage,"  she  shivered  in  its  silent  dreariness,  its  cold,  aris- 
tocratic formalism,  and  she  yearned  for  the  soft,  musical 
babble  of  the  spring-branch,  where,  standing  ankle-deep  in 
water  under  the  friendly  shadow  of  Lookout,  she  had  spent 
long,  blissful  July  days  in  striving  to  build  a  wall  of  rounded 
pebbles  down  which  the  crystal  ripples  would  fall,  a  minia- 


62  ST.  ELMO. 

ture  Talulah  or  Tuccoa.  The  chrism  of  nature  ho,d  anointed 
her  early  life  and  consecrated  her  heart,  but  fate  brought 
her  to  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  of  Mammon,  and  its  defil- 
ing incense  floated  about  her.  How  long  would  the  con- 
secration last  ?  As  she  slowly  limped  about  the  house  and 
grounds,  acquainting  herself  with  the  details,  she  was  im- 
pressed with  the  belief  that  happiness  had  once  held  her 
court  here,  had  been  dethroned,  exiled,  and  now  waited  be- 
yond the  confines  of  the  park,  anxious  "but  unable  to  renew 
her  reign  and  expel  usurping  gloom.  For  some  weeks  after 
her  arrival  she  took  her  meals  in  her  own  room,  and  having 
learned  to  recognize  the  hasty,  heavy  tread  of  the  dreaded 
master  of  the  house,  she  invariably  fled  from  the  sound  of 
his  steps  as  she  would  have  shunned  an  ogre ;  consequently 
her  knowledge  of  him  was  limited  to  the  brief  inspection 
and  uncomplimentary  conversation  which  introduced  him 
to  her  acquaintance  on  the  day  of  his  return.  Her  habitual 
avoidance  and  desire  of  continued  concealment  was,  how- 
ever, summarily  thwarted  when  Mrs.  Murray  came  into  her 
room  late  one  night,  and  asked: 

"  Did  not  I  see  you  walking  this  afternoon  without  your 
crutches  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  was  trying  to  see  if  I  could  not  do  with, 
out  them  entirely." 

"  Did  the  experiment  cause  you  any  pain  ?" 

"  No  pain  exactly,  but  I  find  my  ankle  still  weak." 

"Be  careful  not  to  overstrain  it;  by  degrees  it  will 
strengthen,  if  you  use  it  moderately.  By  the  by,  you  are 
now  well  enough  to  come  to  the  table ;  and  from  breakfast 
to-morrow  you  will  take  your  meals  with  us  in  the  dining- 
room." 

A  shiver  of  apprehension  seized  Edna,  and  in  a  fright- 
3ned  tone  she  ejaculated  : 

"  Ma'am  !" 

"  I  say,  in  future  you  will  eat  at  the  table  instead  of  here 
in  this  room." 


ST.  ELMO.  63 

"  If  you  please,  Mrs.  Murray,  I  wo.iid  ratlier  stay  nere.' 

"Pray  what  possible  objection  can  you  have  to  the 
dining-room  ?" 

Edna  averted  her  head,  but  wrung  her  fingers  nervously. 

Mrs.  Murray  frowned,  and  continued  gravely  : 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Edna.  It  is  proper  that  you  should  go 
to  the  table,  and  learn  to  eat  with  a  fork  instead  of  a  knife. 
You  need  not  be  ashamed  to  meet  people  ;  there  is  nothing 
clownish  about  you,  unless  you  affect  it.  Good  night ;  I 
shall  see  you  at  breakfast ;  the  bell  rings  at  eight  o'clock." 

There  was  no  escape,  and  she  awoke  next  morning  op- 
pressed with  the  thought  of  the  ordeal  that  awaited  her. 
She  dressed  herself  even  more  carefully  than  usual,  despite 
the  trembling  of  her  hands  ;  and  when  the  ringing  of  the 
little  silver  bell  summoned  her  to  the  dining-room,  her  heart 
seemed  to  stand  still.  But  though  exceedingly  sensitive 
and  shy,  Edna  was  brave,  and  even  self-possessed,  and  she 
promptly  advanced  to  meet  the  trial. 

Entering  the  room,  she  saw  that  her  benefactress  had  not 
yet  come  in,  but  was  approaching  the  house  with  a  basket 
of  flowers  in  her  hand ;  and  one  swift  glance  around  dis- 
covered Mr.  Murray  standing  at  the  window.  Unobserved 
she  scanned  the  tall,  powerful  figure  clad  in  a  suit  of  white 
linen,  and  saw  that  he  wore  no  beard  save  the  heavy  but 
closely-trimmed  moustache,  which  now,  in  some  degree, 
concealed  the  harshness  about  the  handsome  mouth.  Only 
his  profile  was  turned  toward  her,  and  she  noticed  that, 
while  his  forehead  was  singularly  white,  his  cheeks  and 
chin  were  thoroughly  bronzed  from  exposure. 

As  Mrs.  Murray  came  in,  she  nodded  to  her  young  pro- 
tegee, and  approached  the  table,  saying  : 

"  Good  morning  !  It  seems  I  am  the  laggard  to-day,  but 
Nicholas  had  mislaid  the  flower-shears,  and  detained  me. 
Hereafter  I  shall  turn  over  this  work  of  dressing  vases  to 
you,  child.  My  son,  this  is  your  birthday,  and  here  is  youf 
button-hole  souvenir." 


64  ST.  ELMO. 

She  fastened  a  few  spi'igs  of  white  jasmine  in  his  finerj 
coat,  and,  as  he  thanked  her  briefly  and  turned  to  the 
table,  she  said,  with  marked  emphasis  : 

"  St.  Elmo,  let  me  introduce  you  to  Edna  Earl." 

He  looked  around,  and  fixed  his  keen  eyes  on  the  orphan, 
whose  cheeks  crimsoned  as  she  looked  down  and  said  quite 
distinctly : 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Murray." 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Earl." 

"  No,  I  protest !  '  Miss  Earl,'  indeed  !  Call  the  child 
Edna." 

"  As  you  please,  mother,  provided  you  do  not  let  the  cof- 
fee and  chocolate  get  cold  while  you  decide  the  momentous 
question." 

Neither  spoke  again  for  some  time,  and  in  the  embarrass- 
ing silence  Edna  kept  her  eyes  on  the  china,  wondering  if 
all  their  breakfasts  would  be  like  this.  At  last  Mr.  Murray 
pushed  away  his  large  coffee-cup,  and  said  abruptly: 

"  After  all,  it  is  only  one  year  to-day  since  I  came  back 
to  America,  though  it  seems  much  longer.  It  will  soon  be 
time  to  prepare  for  my  trip  to  the  South  Sea  Islands.  The 
stagnation  here  is  intolerable." 

An  expression  of  painful  surprise  flitted  across  the 
mother's  countenance,  but  she  answered  quickly  : 

"  It  has  been  an  exceedingly  short,  happy  year  to  me. 
You  are  such  a  confirmed  absentee  that,  when  you  are  at 
home,  time  slips  by  unnoticed." 

"  But  few  and  far  between  as  my  visits  are,  they  certainly 
never  approach  the  angelic.  '  Welcome  the  coming,  speed 
the  parting  guest,'  must  frequently  recur  to  you." 

Before  his  mother  could  reply  he  rose,  ordered  his  horse, 
and  as  he  drew  on  his  gloves,  and  left  the  room,  looked  over 
his  shoulder,  saying  indifferently,  "  That  box  of  pictures 
from  Munich  is  at  the  depot ;  I  directed  Henry  to  go  over 
after  it  this  morning.     I  will  open  it  when  I  come  home." 

A  moment  after  he  passed  the  window    on   hoi'seback, 


ST.  ELMO.  G5 

and  with  a  heavy  sigh  Mrs.  Murray  dnjpped  hei  Head  or 
her  hand,  compressing  her  lips,  and  tojing  abstractedly 
with  the  sugar-tongs. 

Edna  watched  the  grave,  troubled  countenance  for  some 
seconds,  and  then  putting  her  hand  on  the  iiower-basket, 
she  asked  softly  : 

"  Shall  I  dress  the  flower-pots  ?" 

"  Yes,  child,  in  four  rooms  ;  this,  the  parlors,  and  the 
library.  Always  cut  the  flowers  very  early,  while  the  dew 
is  on  them." 

Her  eyes  went  back  to  the  sugar-tongs,  and  Edna  joyfully 
escaped  from  a  room  whose  restraints  and  associations  were 
irksome. 

Impressed  by  Hagar's  vehement  adjuration  to  keep  out 
of  Mr.  Murray's  path,  she  avoided  those  portions  of  the 
house  to  which  he  seemed  most  partial,  and  thus,  although 
they  continued  to  meet  at  meals,  no  words  passed  between 
them,  after  that  brief  salutation  on  the  morning  of  presen- 
tation. Very  often  she  was  painfully  conscious  that  his 
searching  eyes  scrutinized  her  ;  but  though  the  blood 
mounted  instantly  to  her  cheeks  at  such  times,  she  never 
looked  up — dreading  his  gaze  as  she  would  that  of  a  bas- 
ilisk. One  sultry  afternoon  she  went  into  the  park,  and 
threw  herself  down  on  the  long  grass,  under  a  clump  of 
cedars,  near  which  the  deer  and  bison  were  quietly  brows- 
ing, while  the  large  white  merinoes  huddled  in  the  shade 
and  blinked  at  the  sun.  Opening  a  pictorial  history  of 
England,  which  she  had  selected  from  the  library,  she 
spread  it  on  the  grass,  and  leaning  her  face  in  her  palms, 
rested  her  elbows  on  the  ground,  and  began  to  read. 
Now  and  then  she  paused  as  she  turned  a  leaf,  to  look 
around  at  the  beautiful  animals,  each  one  of  which  might 
have  served  as  a  model  for  Landseer  or  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Gradually  the  languor  of  the  atmosphere  stole  into  her  busy 
brain  ; .  as  the  sun  crept  down  the  sky,  her  eyelids  sunk  with 
it,  and  very  soon  she  was  fast  asleep,  with  her  head  on  the 


66  ST.  ELMO. 

book,  and  her  cheeks  flushed  almost  to  a  vermilkn  hue, 
From  that  brief  summer  dream  she  Avas  aroused  by  some 
sudden  noise,  and  starting  up,  saw  the  sheep  bounding  far 
away,  while  a  large,  gaunt,  wolfish,  gray  dog  snuffed  at 
her  hands  and  face.  Once  before  she  had  seen  him  chained 
near  the  stables,  and  Hagar  told  her  he  was  "  very  danger- 
ous," and  was  never  loosed  except  at  night ;  consequently, 
the  expression  of  his  fierce,  red  eyes,  as  he  stood  over  her, 
was  well  calculated  to  alarm  her ;  but  at  that  instant  Mr. 
Murray's  voice  thundered : 

"Keep  still !  don't  move !  or  you  will  be  torn  to  pieces !" 
Then  followed  some  rapid  interjections  and  vehement 
words  in  the  same  unintelligible  dialect  which  had  so 
puzzled  her  once  before,  when  her  grandfather  could  not 
control  the  horse  he  was  attempting  to  shoe.  The  dog  was 
sullen  and  unmanageable,  keeping  his  black  muzzle  close  to 
her  face,  and  she  grew  pale  with  terror  as  she  noticed  that 
his  shaggy  breast  and  snarling  jaws  were  dripping  with 
blood. 

Leaping  from  his  horse,  Mr.  Murray  strode  up,  and  with 
a  quick  movement  seized  the  heavy  brass  collar  of  the  sav- 
age creature,  hurled  him  back  on  his  haunches,  and  held 
him  thus,  giving  vent  the  while  to  a  volley  of  oaths. 

Pointing  to  a  large,  half-decayed  elm  branch,  lying  at  a 
little  distance,  he  tightened  his  grasp  on  the  collar,  and  said 
to  the  still  trembling  girl : 

"  Bring  me  that  stick,  yonder." 

Edna  complied,  and  there  ensued  a  scene  of  cursing, 
thrashing,  and  howling,  that  absolutely  sickened  her.  The 
dog  writhed,  leaped,  whined,  and  snarled  ;  but  the  iron  hold 
was  not  relaxed,  and  the  face  of  the  master  rivaled  in  rage 
that  of  the  brute,  which  seemed  as  ferocious  as  the  hounds 
of  Gian  Maria  Visconti,  fed  with  human  flesh,  by  Squarcia 
Giramo  Distressed  by  the  severity  and  duration  of  the 
punishment,  and  without  pausing  to  reflect,  or  to  remember 
Hagar's  warning,  Edna  interposed  : 


S2\  ELMO.  67 

"  Oh !  please  don't  whip  him  any  more !  It  is  crae,  to 
beat  him  so !" 

Probably  he  did  not  hear  her,  and  the  blows  fell  thickes 
than  before.  She  drew  near,  and,  as  the  merciless  arm  was 
raised  to  strike,  she  seized  it  with  both  hands,  and  swung* 
on  with  her  whole  weight,  repeating  her  words.  If  one  of 
his  meek,  frightened  sheep  had  sprung  at  his  throat  to 
throttle  him,  Mr.  Murray  would  not  have  been  more  astound- 
ed. He  shook  her  off,  threw  her  from  him,  but  she  carried 
the  stick  in  her  grasp. 

"  D — n  you !  how  dare  you  interfere  !  "What  is  it  to 
you  if  I  cut  his  throat,  which  I  mean  to  do !" 

"  That  will  be  cruel  and  sinful,  for  he  does  not  know  it  is 
wrong ;  and  besides,  he  did  not  bite  me." 

She  spoke  resolutely,  and  for  the  first  time  ventured  to 
look  straight  into  his  flashing  eyes. 

u  Did  not  bite  you !  Did  not  he  worry  down  and  man- 
gle one  of  my  finest  Southdowns  ?  It  would  serve  you 
right  for  your  impertinent  meddling,  if  I  let  him  tear  you 
limb  from  limb !" 

"  He  knows  no  better,"  she  answered  firmly. 

"  Then,  by  G — d,  I  will  teach  him !  Hand  me  that 
stick !" 

"  Oh !  please,  Mr.  Murray !  You  have  nearly  put  out  one 
of  his  eyes  already  !" 

"  Give  me  the  stick,  I  tell  you,  or  I " 

He  did  not  finish  the  threat,  but  held  out  his  hand  with  a 
peremptory  gesture. 

Edna  gave  one  swift  glance  around,  saw  that  there  were 
no  other  branches  within  reach,  saw  too  that  the  dog's  face 
was  swelling  and  bleeding  from  its  bruises,  and,  bending 
the  stick  across  her  knee,  she  snapped  it  into  three  pieces, 
which  she  threw  as  far  as  her  strength  would  permit. 
There  was  a  brief  pause,  broken  only  by  the  piteous  howl- 
ing of  the  suffering  creature,  and,  as  she  began  to  realize 
what  she  had  done,  Edna's  face  reddened,  and  she  put  her 


68  ST.  ELMO. 

hands  over  her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  vision  of  the  enraged 
man,  who  was  absolutely  dumb  with  indignant  astonish- 
ment. Presently  a  sneering  laugh  caused  her  to  look 
through  her  fingers,  and  she  saw  "  Ali,"  the  dog,  now  re- 
leased, fawning  and  whining  at  his  master's  feet. 

"  Aha !  The  way  of  all  natures,  human  as  well  as  brute. 
Pet  and  fondle  and  pamper  them,  they  turn  under  your 
caressing  hand  and  bite  you ;  but  bruise  and  trample  them, 
and  instantly  they  are  on  their  knees  licking  the  feet  that 
kicked  them.  Begone !  you  bloodthirsty  devil !  I'll  settle 
the  account  at  the  kennel.  Buffon  is  a  fool,  and  Pennant 
was  right  after  all ;  the  blood  of  the  jackal  pricks  up  your 
ears." 

He  spurned  the  crouching  culprit,  and  as  it  slunk  away 
in  the  direction  of  the  house,  Edna  found  herself  alone,  face 
to  face  with  the  object  of  her  aversion,  and  she  almost 
wished  that  the  earth  would  open  and  swallow  her.  Mr. 
Murray  came  close  to  her,  held  her  hands  down  with  one 
of  his,  and  placing  the  other  under  her  chin,  forced  her  to 
look  at  him. 

"  How  dare  you  defy  and  disobey  me  ?" 

"  I  did  not  defy  you,  sir,  but  I  could  not  help  you  to  do 
what  was  wrong  and  cruel." 

"  I  am  the  judge  of  my  actions,  and  neither  ask  your  help 
nor  intend  to  permit  your  interference  with  what  does  not 
concern  you." 

"  God  is  the  judge  of  mine,  sir,  and  if  I  had  obeyed  you 
I  should  have  been  guilty  of  all  you  wished  to  do  with  that 
stick.  I  don't  want  to  interfere,  sir.  I  try  to  keep  out  of 
your  way,  and  I  am  very  sorry  I  happened  to  come  here 
this  evening.  I  did  not  dream  of  meeting  you  ;  I  thought 
you  had  gone  to  town." 

He  read  all  her  aversion  in  her  eyes,  which  strove  to 
avoid  his,  and  smiling  grimly,  he  continued  :  "  You  evi- 
dently think  that  I  am  the  very  devil  himself,  walking  the 
earth  like  a  roaring  lion.     Mind  your  own  affairs  hereafter, 


ST.  ELMO.  69 

and  when  I  give  you  a  positive  order  ob^y  it,  for  I  am 
master  here,  and  my  word  is  law.  Meddling  or  disci edi- 
ence  I  neither  tolerate  nor  forgive.  Do  you  understand 
me  ?" 

"  I  shall  not  meddle,  sir." 

"  That  means  that  you  will  not  obey  me  unless  you  think 
proper  ?" 

She  was  silent,  and  her  beautiful  soft  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"Answer me  !" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  that  you  would  like  to  hear." 

"What?     Out  with  it!" 

"  You  would  have  a  right  to  think  me  impertinent  if  I 
said  any  more." 

"  No,  I  swear  I  will  not  devour  you,  say  what  you  may." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  the  motion  brought  two  teara 
down  on  her  cheeks. 

"  Oh  !  you  are  one  of  the  stubborn  sweet .  saints,  whose 
lips  even  Torquemada's  red-hot  steel  fingers  could  not 
open.  Child,  do  you  hate  or  dread  me  most  ?  Answer 
that  question." 

He  took  his  own  handkerchief  and  wiped  away  the  tears. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  sir,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

He  threw  his  head  back  and  laughed  derisively. 

'  •  Sorry  for  me  ?  For  me  ?  Me  ?  The  owner  of  as 
many  thousands  as  there  are  hairs  on  your  head !  Keep 
your  pity  for  your  poverty-stricken  vagrant  self !  Why 
the  deuce  are  you  sorry  for  me  ?" 

She  withdrew  her  hands,  which  he  seemed  to  hold  un- 
consciously, and  ansAvered : 

"  Because,  with  all  your  money,  you  never  will  be  happy." 

"  And  what  the  d — 1  do  I  care  for  happiness  ?  I  am 
not  such  a  fool  as  to  expect  it ;  and  yet  after  all,  '  Out  of 
the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings.'  Pshaw !  I  am  a  fool 
nevei'theless  to  waste  words  on  you.  Stop  !  What  do 
you  think  of  my  park,  and  the  animals  ?  I  notice  you  often 
come  here." 


70  ST.  ELMO. 

"  The  first  time  I  saw  it,  I  thought  of  Noah  and  the  ark, 
with  two  of  every  living  thing ;  but  an  hour  ago  it  seemed 
to  me  more  like  the  garden  of  Eden,  where  the  animals  all 
lay  down  together  in  peace,  before  sin  came  into  it." 

"  And  Ali  and  I  entered,  like  Satan,  and  completed  the 
vision  ?  Thank  you,  considering  the  fact  that  you  are  on 
my  premises,  and  know  something  of  my  angelic,  sanctified 
temper,  I  must  say  you  indulge  in  bold  flights  of  imagery." 

"  I  did  not  say  that,  sir." 

"  You  thought  it  nevertheless.  Don't  be  hypocritical ! 
Is  not  that  what  you  thought  of?" 

She  made  no  reply,  and  anxious  to  terminate  an  inter- 
view painfully  embarrassing  to  her,  stepped  forward  to  pick 
up  the  history  which  lay  on  the  grass. 

"  What  book  is  that  ?" 

She  handed  it  to  him,  and  the  leaves  happened  to  open  at 
a  picture  representing  the  murder  of  Becket.  A  scowl 
blackened  his  face  as  he  glanced  at  it,  and  turned  away 
muttering : 

"  Malice  prepense  !  or  the  devil !  " 

At  a  little  distance,  leisurely  cropping  the  long  grass, 
stood  his  favorite  horse,  whose  arched  forehead  and  pe- 
culiar mouse-color  proclaimed  his  unmistakable  descent 
from  the  swift  hordes  that  scour  the  Kirghise  steppes,  and 
sanctioned  the  whim  which  induced  his  master  to  call  him 
"  Tamerlane."  As  Mr.  Murray  approached  his  horse,  Edna 
walked  away  toward  the  house,  fearing  that  he  might 
overtake  her ;  but  no  sound  of  hoofs  reached  her  ears,  and 
looking  back  as  she  crossed  the  avenue  and  entered  the 
flower-garden,  she  saw  horse  and  rider  standing  where  she 
left  them,  and  wondered  why  Mr.  Murray  was  so  still,  with 
one  arm  on  the  neck  of  his  Tartar  pet,  and  his  own  head 
bent  down  on  his  hand. 

In  reflecting  upon  what  had  occurred,  she  felt  her  repug- 
nance increase,  and  began  to  think  that  they  could  not  live 
in  the  same  house  without  continual  conflicts,  which  would 


ST.  ELMO.  71 

force  her  to  abandon  the  numerous  advantages  now  within  her 
grasp.  The  only  ray  of  hope  that  darted  through  her  mind 
when  she  recalled  his  allusion  to  a  contemplated  visit  to 
the  South  Sea  Islands,  and  the  possibility  of  his  long  absence. 
Insensibly  her  dislike  of  the  owner  extended  to  every  thing 
he  handled,  and  much  as  she  had  enjoyed  the  perusal  of 
Dante,  she  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  restoring  the  lost 
volume,  which  she  felt  well  assured  his  keen  eyes  would 
recognize  the  first  time  she  inadvertently  left  it  in  the 
library  or  the  greenhouse.  The  doubt  of  her  honesty, 
which  he  had  expressed  to  his  mother,  rankled  in  the  or- 
phan's memory,  and  for  some  days  she  had  been  nerving 
herself  to  anticipate  a  discovery  of  the  book  by  voluntarily 
restoring  it.  The  rencontre  in  the  park  by  no  means  di- 
minished her  dread  of  addressing  him  on  this  subject ;  but 
she  resolved  that  the  rendition  of  Caesar's  things  to  Csesar 
should  take  place  that  evening  before  she  slept. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HE  narrow,  vaulted  passage  leading  to  Mr.  Mur- 
ray's suit  of  rooms  was  dim  and  gloomy  when 
Edna  approached  the  partially  opened  door  of 
the  rotunda,  whence  issued  a  stream  of  light. 
Timidly  she  crossed  the  threshold  and  stood  within  on  the 
checkered  floor,  whose  polished  tiles  glistened  under  the 
glare  of  gas  from  bronze  brackets  representing  Telamones, 
that  stood  at  regular  intervals  around  the  apartment.  The 
walls  were  painted  in  Saracenic  style,  and  here  and  there 
hung  specimens  of  Oriental  armor — Turcoman  cimeters 
Damascus  swords,  Bedouin  lances,  and  a  crimson  silk  flag, 
with  heavy  gold  fringe,  surmounted  by  a  crescent.  The 
cornice  of  the  lofty  arched  ceiling  was  elaborately  ara- 
besque, and  as  Edna  looked  up  she  saw  through  the  glass 
roof  the  flickering  of  stars  in  the  summer  sky.  In  the 
centre  of  the  room,  immediately  under  the  dome,  stretched 
a  billiard-table,  and  near  it  was  a  circular  one  of  black 
marble,  inlaid  with  red  onyx  and  lapis  lazuli,  which  formed 
a  miniature  zodiac  similar  to  that  at  Denderah,  while  in  the 
middle  of  this  table  sat  a  small  Murano  hour-glass,  filled 
with  sand  from  the  dreary  valley  of  El  Ghor.  A  huge 
plaster  Trimurti  stood  close  to  the  wall,  on  a  triang*ular  pe- 
destal of  black  rock,  and  the  Siva-fiice  and  the  writhing 
sobra  confronted  all  who  entered.  Just  opposite  grinned  a 
red  granite  slab  with  a  quaint  basso-relievo  taken  from  the 
ruins  of  Elora.  Near  the  door  were  two  silken  divans,  and 
a  richly  carved  urn,  three  feet  high,  which  had  once  orna- 


ST.  ELMO.  73 

merited  the  facade  of  a  tomb  in  the  royal  days  of  Petra,  ere 
the  curse  fell  on  Edorn,  now  stood  an  in  memoriam  of  the 
original  Necropolis.  For  what  purpose  this  room  was  de- 
signed or  used  Edna  could  not  imagine,  and  after  a  hasty 
survey  of  its  singular  furniture,  she  crossed  the  rotundo, 
and  knocked  at  the  door  that  stood  slightly  ajar.  All  was 
silent ;  but  the  smell  of  a  cigar  told  her  that  the  owner  was 
within,  and  she  knocked  once  more. 

"  Come  in." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  come  in  ;  I  only  want  to  hand  you  some- 
thing." 

"  Oh !  the  deuce  you  don't !  But  I  never  meet  people  even 
half-way,  so  come  in  you  must,  if  you  have  any  thing  to  say 
to  me.  I  have  neither  blue  blazes  nor  pitchforks  about  me, 
and  you  will  be  safe  inside.  I  give  you  my  word  there  are 
no  small  devils  shut  up  here,  to  fly  away  with  whomsoever 
peeps  in !     Either  enter,  I  say,  or  be  off." 

The  temptation  was  powerful  to  accept  the  alternative; 
but  as  he  had  evidently  recognized  her  voice,  she  pushed 
open  the  door  and  reluctantly  entered.  It  was  a  long  room, 
and  at  the  end  were  two  beautiful  fluted  white  marble 
pillars,  supporting  a  handsome  arch,  where  hung  heavy 
curtains  of  crimson  Persian  silk,  that  were  now  partially 
looped  back,  showing  the  furniture  of  the  sleeping  apart- 
ment beyond  the  richly  carved  arch.  For  a  moment  the 
bright  light  dazzled  the  orphan,  and  she  shaded  her  eyes ; 
but  the  next  instant  Mr.  Murray  rose  from  a  sofa  near  the 
window,  and  advanced  a  step  or  two,  taking  the  cigar  from 
his  lips. 

"  Gome  to  the  window  and  take  a  seat." 

He  pointed  to  the  sofa ;  but  she  shook  her  head,  and  said 
quickly : 

"I  have  something  which  belongs  to  you,  Mr.  Murray, 
which  I  think  you  must  value  very  much,  and  therefore  I 
wanted  to  see  it  safe  in  your  own  hands." 

Without  raising  her  eyes  she  held  the  book  toward  him. 


74  $T.  ELMu. 

"  What  is  it  ?" 

He  took  it  mechanically,  and  with  his  gaze  fixed  on  the 
girl's  face ;  hut  as  she  made  no  reply,  he  glanced  down  at 
it,  and  his  stern,  swarthy  face  lighted  up  joyfully. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  my  Dante !  my  lost  Dante  !  The  copy 
that  has  travelled  round  the  world  in  my  pocket,  and  that  I 
lost  a  year  ago,  somewhere  in  the  mountains  of  Tennessee  ! 
Girl,  where  did  you  get  it  ?" 

"  I  found  it  where  you  left  it — on  the  grass  near  a  black- 
smith's shop." 

"  A  blacksmith's  shop  !  where  ?" 

"Near  Chattanooga.  Don't  you  remember  the  sign, 
under  the  horse-shoe,  over  the  door,  '  Aaron  Hunt '  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  who  was  Aaron  Hunt  ?" 

For  nearly  a  minute  Edna  struggled  for  composure,  and 
looking  suddenly  up,  said  falteringly  : 

"  He  was  my  grandfather — the  only  person  in  the  world 
I  had  to  care  for,  or  to  love  me — and — sir -" 

"  Well,  go  on." 

"  You  cursed  him  because  your  horse  fretted,  and  he  could 
not  shoe  him  hi  five  minutes." 

"  Humph ! " 

There  was  an  awkward  silence ;  St.  Elmo  Murray  bit  his 
lip  and  scowled,  and,  recovering  her  self-control,  the  orphan 
added : 

"  You  put  your  shawl  and  book  on  the  ground,  and  when 
you  started  you  forgot  them.  I  called  you  back  and  gave 
you  your  shawl ;  but  I  did  not  see  the  book  for  some  time 
after  you  rode  out  of  sight." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  remember  now  about  the  shawl  and  the 
shop.  Strange  I  did  not  recognize  you  before.  Eut  how 
did  you  learn  that  the  book  was  mine  ?" 

"  I  did  not  know  it  was  yours  until  I  came  here  by  acci- 
dent, and  heard  Mrs.  Murray  call  your  name  ;  then  I  knew 
that  the  iuitials  written  in  the  book  spelt  your  name.  And 
besides,  I  remembered  your  figure  and  your  v©ice." 


ST.  3LM0.  75 

Again  thvjre  was  a  pause,  and  her  mission  enckd  Edna 
turned  to  go. 

"  Stop  !  Why  did  you  not  give  it  to  me  when  you  first 
jame  ?" 

She  made  no  reply,  and  putting  his  hand  on  her  shoulder 
to  detain  her,  he  said  more  gently  than  she  had  ever  heaid 
him  speak  to  any  one  : 

"  Was  it  because  you  loved  my  book  and  disliked  to  part 
with  it,  or  was  it  because  you  feared  to  come  and  speak  to 
a  man  whom  you  hate  ?     Be  truthful." 

Still  she  was  silent,  and  raising  her  face  with  his  palm,  as 
he  had  done  in  the  park,  he  continued  in  the  same  low, 
sweet  voice,  which  she  could  scarcely  believe  belonged  to 
him : 

"  I  am  waiting  for  your  answer,  and  I  intend  to  have  it." 

Her  large,  sad  eyes  were  brimming  with  precious  memo- 
ries, as  she  lifted  them  steadily  to  meet  his,  and  answered  : 

"  My  grandfather  was  noble  and  good,  and  he  was  all  I 
had  in  this  world." 

"And  you  can  not  forgive  a  man  who  happened  to  be 
rude  to  him  ?" 

"If  you  please,  Mr.  Murray,  I  would  rather  go  now.  I 
have  given  you  your  book,  and  that  is  all  I  came  for." 

"  Which  means  that  you  are  afraid  of  me,  and  want  to 
get  out  of  my  sight  ?" 

She  did  not  deny  it,  but  her  face  flushed  painfully. 

"Edna  Earl,  you  are  at  least  honest  and  truthful,  and 
those  are  r$re  traits  at  the  present  day.  I  thank  you  for 
preserving  and  returning  my  Dante.  Did  you  read  any 
of  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  all  of  it.     Good-night,  sir." 

"  Wait  a  moment.     When  did  Aaron  Hunt  die  ?" 

"  Two  months  after  you  saw  him." 

"  You  have  no  relatives  ?     No  cousins,  uncles,  aur  ts  ?" 

"  None  that  I  ever  heard  of.     I  must  go,  sir." 

"  Good  night,  child.     For  the  present,  when  you  go  out 


76  BT.  ELMO. 

in  the  grounds,  be  sure  that  wolf,  Ali,  is  chaii  ed  up,  or  yon 
may  be  sorry  that  I  did  not  cut  his  throat,  as  I  am  still  in 
clined  to  do." 

She  closed  the  door,  ran  lightly  across  the  rotundo,  and 
regaining  her  own  room,  felt  inexpressibly  relieved  that  th<3 
ordeal  was  over — that  in  future  there  remained  no  necessity 
for  her  to  address  one  whose  very  tones  made  her  shudder 
and  the  touch  of  whose  hand  filled  her  with  vague  dread 
and  loathing. 

When  the  echo  of  her  retreating  steps  died  away,  St. 
Elmo  threw  his  cigar  out  of  the  window,  and  walked  up 
and  down  the  quaint  and  elegant  rooms,  whose  costly 
bizarrerie  would  more  appropriately  have  adorned  a  villa 
of  Parthenope  or  Lucanian  Sybaris,  than  a  country-house  in 
soi-disant  "  republican "  America.  The  floor,  covered  in 
winter  with  velvet  carpet,  was  of  white  and  black  marble 
now  bare  and  polished  as  a  mirror,  reflecting  the  figure  of 
the  owner  as  he  crossed  it.  Oval  ormolu  tables,  buhl  chairs, 
and  oaken  and  marquetrie  cabinets,  loaded  with  cameos, 
intaglios,  Abraxoids,  whose  "  erudition  "  would  have  filled 
Mnesarchus  with  envy,  and  challenged  the  admiration  of 
the  Samian  lapidary  who  engraved  the  ring  of  Polycrates ; 
these  and  numberless  articles  of  virtu  testified  to  the  uni- 
versality of  what  St.  Elmo  called  his  "world  scrapings," 
and  to  the  reckless  extravagance  and  archaistic  taste  of  the 
collector.  On  a  verd-antique  table  lay  a  satin  cushion, 
holding  a  vellum  MS.,  bound  in  blue  velvet,  whose  uncial 
letters  were  written  in  purple  ink,  powdered  witbtgold-dust, 
while  the  margins  were  stiff  with  gilded  illuminations ;  and 
near  the  cushion,  as  if  prepared  to  shed  light  on  the  curious 
cryptography,  stood  an  exquisite  white  glass  lamp,  shaped 
like  a  vase  and  richly  ornamented  with  Arabic  inscriptions 
in  ultra-marine  blue — a  precious  relic  of  some  ruined  Laura 
in  the  Nitrian  desert,  by  the  aid  of  whose  rays  the  hoary 
hermits,  whom  St.  Macarius  ruled,  broke  the  midnight 
gloom  chanting,  " Kyrie  eleison,  Christe  eleison"  fourteen 


ST.  ELMO  77 

hundred  years  before  St.  Elmo's  "birth.  Irnir  ediately  oppo- 
site, on  an  embossed  ivory-stand,  and  protected  from  air  and 
dust  by  a  glass  case,  were  two  antique  goblets,  one  of  green- 
veined  agate,  one  of  blood-red  onyx ;  and  into  the  coat- 
ing of  wax,  spread  along  the  ivory  slab,  were  inserted 
amphorae,  one  dry  and  empty,  the  other  a  third  full  ot 
Falernian,  whose  topaz  drops  had  grown  strangely  mellow 
and  golden  in  the  ashy  cellars  of  Ilerculaneum,  and  had 
doubtless  been  destined  for  some  luxurious  trichnium  in  the 
days  of  Titus.  A  small  Byzantine  picture,  painted  on  wood, 
with  a  silver  frame  ornamented  with  cornelian  stars,  and 
the  background  heavily  gilded,  bung  over  an  etagere,  where 
lay  a  leaf  from  Nebuchadnezzar's  diary,  one  of  those  Baby- 
lonish bricks  on  which  his  royal  name  was  stamped.  Near 
it  stood  a  pair  of  Bohemian  vases  representing  the  two  va- 
rieties of  lotus — one  velvety  white  with  rose-colored  veins, 
the  other  with  delicate  blue  petals.  This  latter  whim  had 
cost  a  vast  amount  of  time,  trouble,  and  money,  it  having 
been  found  difficult  to  carefully  preserve,  sketch,  and  paint 
them  for  the  manufacturer  hi  Bohemia,  who  had  never  seen 
the  holy  lotus,  and  required  specimens.  But  the  indomi- 
table will  of  the  man,  to  whose  wishes  neither  oceans  nor 
deserts  opposed  successful  barriers,  finally  triumphed,  and 
the  coveted  treasures  fully  repaid  their  price  as  they  glis- 
tened in  the  gaslight,  perfect  as  their  prototypes  slumber- 
ing on  the  bosom  of  the  Nile,  under  the  blazing  midnight 
stars  of  rainless  Egypt.  Several  handsome  rosewood  cases 
were  filled  with  rare  books — two  in  Pali — centuries  old; 
and  motlRaten  volumes  and  valuable  mss. — some  in  parch- 
ment, some  bound  in  boards — recalled  the  days  of  astrology 
and  alchemy,  and  the  sombre  mysteries  of  Rosicruoianisrn. 
Side  by  side,  on  an  ebony  stand,  lay  an  Elzevir  Terence, 
printed  in  red  letters,  and  a  curious  Birman  book,  whose 
pages  consisted  of  thin  leaves  of  ivory,  gilded  at  the  edges ; 
and  here  too  were  black  rhyta  from  Chiusi,  and  a  cylix 
from  Vulci,  and  one  of  those  quaint  Peruvian  jars,  which 


78  ST.  ELMO. 

was  so  constructed  that,  when  filled  with  water  the  aii 
escaped  in  sounds  that  resembled  that  of  the  song  or  cry  of 
the  animal  represented  on  the  vase  or  jar.  In  the  space  be- 
tween the  tall  windows  that  fronted  the  lawn  hung  a  weird, 
life-size  picture  that  took  strange  hold  on  the  imagination 
of  all  who  looked  at  it.  A  gray-haired  Cimbrian Prophetess, 
u:  white  vestments  and  brazen  girdle,  with  canvas  mantle 
fastened  on  the  shoulder  by  a  broad  brazen  clasp,  stood/ 
with  bare  feet,  on  a  low,  rude  scaffolding,  leaning  upon  her 
sword,  and  eagerly  watching,  with  divining  eyes,  the  stream 
of  blood  which  trickled  from  the  throat  of  the  slaughtered 
human  victim  down  into  the  large  brazen  kettle  beneath  the 
scaffold.  The  snowy  locks  and  white  mantle  seemeti.  to 
nutter  in  the  wind ;  and  those  who  gazed  on  the  stony,  inex- 
orable face  of  the  Prophetess,  and  into  the  glittering  blue 
eyes,  shuddered  and  almost  fancied  they  heard  the  patter- 
ing of  the  gory  stream  against  the  sides  of  the  brass  cal- 
dron. But  expensive  and  rare  as  were  these  relics  of  by- 
gone dynasties  and  mouldering  epochs,  there  was  one  other 
object  for  which  the  master  would  have  given  every  thing 
else  in  tins  museum  of  curiosities,  and  the  secret  of  which 
no  eyes  but  his  own  had  yet  explored.  On  a  sculptured 
slab,  that  once  formed  a  portion  of  the  architrave  of  the 
Cave  Teniple  at  Elephanta,  was  a  splendid  marble  minia- 
ture, four  feet  high,  of  that  miracle  of  Saracenic  architec- 
ture, the  Taj  Mahal  at  Agra.  The  elaborate  carving  re- 
sembled lace-work,  and  the  beauty  of  the  airy  dome  and 
slender,  glittering  minarets  of  this  mimic  tomb  of  l!|Bor-Mahal 
could  find  no  parallel,  save  in  the  superb  andTnatchless 
original.  The  richly-carved  door  that  closed  the  arch  of  the 
tomb  swung  back  on  golden  hinges,  and  opened  only  by  a 
euriously-shaped  golden  key,  which  never  left  Mr.  Murray's 
watch-chain;  consequently  what  filled  the  penetralia  was 
left  for  the  conjectures  of  the  imaginative ;  and  when  hiH 
mother  expressed  a  desire  to  examine  it,  he  merely  frowned 
and  said  hastily : 


ST.  JLMO.  79 

"That  is  Pandora's  box,  minus  imprisoLed  hope.  I  f re- 
ft): it  should  not  be  opened." 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  tomb  he  had  posted  a  grim 
sentinel-  -a  black  marble  statuette  of  Mors,  modeled  from 
that  hideous  little  brass  figure  which  Spence  saw  at  Flor- 
ence, representing  a  skeleton  sitting  on  the  grounds  resting 
one  arm  on  an  urn. 

Filled  though  it  was  with  sparkling  bijouterie  that  would 
have  graced  the  Barberini  or  Strozzi  cabinets,  the  glitter  of 
the  room  was  cold  and  cheerless.  No  light,  childish  feet 
had  ever  pattered  down  the  long  rows  of  shining  tiles;  no 
gushing  mirthful  laughter  had  ever  echoed  through  those 
lofty  windows ;  every  thing  pointed  to  the  past — a  classic, 
storied  past,  but  dead  as  the  mummies  of  Karnac,  and 
treacherously,  repulsively  lustrous  as  the  waves  that  break 
in  silver  circles  over  the  buried  battlements,  and  rustling 
palms,  and  defiled  altars  of  the  proud  cities  of  the  plain.  No 
rosy  memories  of  early,  happy  manhood  lingered  here ;  no 
dewy  gleam  of  the  merry  morning  of  life,  when  hope  paint- 
ed and  peopled  a  smiling  world ;  no  magic  trifles  that 
prattled  of  the  spring-time  of  a  heart  that,  in  wandering  to 
and  fro  through  the  earth,  had  fed  itself  with  dust  and 
ashes,  acrid  and  bitter ;  had  studiously  collected  only  the 
melancholy  symbols  of  mouldering  ruin,  desolation,  and 
death,  and  which  found  its  best  type  in  the  Taj  Mahal, 
that  glistened  so  mockingly  as  the  gas-light  flickered  over  it. 

A  stranger  looking  upon  St.  Elmo  Murray  for  the  first 
time,  as  he*  paced  the  floor,  would  have  found  it  difficult  to 
realize  that  only  thirty-four  years  had  plowed  those  deep, 
rugged  lines  in  his  swarthy  and  colorless  but  still  handsome 
face ;  where  midnight  orgies  and  habitual  excesses  had  left 
their  unmistakable  plague-spot,  and  Mephi  stopheles  had 
stamped  his  signet.  JBlase,  cynical,  scoffing,  and  hopeless,  he 
had  stranded  his  life,  and  was  recklessly  striding  to  his 
grave,  .trampling  upon  the  feelings  of  all  with  whom  he 
associated,  and  at  war  with  a  world,  in  which  his  lordly, 


80  ST.  ELMO. 

brilliant  intellect  would  have  lifted  him  to  any  eminence  he 
desired,  and  which,  properly  directed,  would  have  made  him 
the  benefactor  and  ornament  of  the  society  he  snubbed  and 
derided.  Like  all  strong  though  misguided  natures,  the 
power  and  activity  of  his  mind  enhanced  his  wretchedness, 
and  drove  him  farther  and  farther  from  the  path  of  recti- 
tude ;  while  the  consciousness  that  he  was  originally  capable 
of  loftier,  purer  aims,  and  nobler  pursuits  than  those  that 
now  engrossed  his  perverted  thoughts,  rendered  him  savage- 
ly morose.  For  nearly  fifteen  dreary  years,  nothing  but 
jeers  and  oaths  and  sarcasms  had  crossed  his  finely  sculp- 
tured lips,  which  had  forgotten  how  to  smile ;  and  it  was 
only  when  the  mocking  demon  of  the  wine-cup  looked  out 
from  his  gloomy  gray  eyes  that  his  ringing,  sneering  laugh 
struck  like  a  dagger  to  the  heart  that  loved  him,  that  of  hie 
proud  but  anxious  and  miserable  mother.  To-night,  for  the 
first  time  since  his  desperate  plunge  into  the  abyss  of  vice, 
conscience,  which  he  had  believed  effectually  strangled, 
stirred  feebly,  startling  him  with  a  faint  moan,  as  unexpect- 
ed as  the  echo  from  Morella's  tomb,  or  the  resurrection  of 
Ligeia ;  and  down  the  murdered  years  came  wailing  ghostly 
memories,  which  even  his  iron  will  could  no  longer  scourge 
to  silence.  Clamorous  as  the  avenging  Erinnys,  they  re- 
fused to  be  exorcised,  and  goaded  him  almost  to  frenzy. 

Those  sweet,  low,  timid  tones,  "  I  am  sorry  for  you," 
had  astonished  and  mortified  him.  To  be  hated  and 
dreaded  was  not  at  all  unusual  or  surpi-ising,  but  to  be 
pitied  and  despised  was  a  sensation  as  novel  as  humiliating  ; 
and  the  fact  that  all  his  ferocity  failed  to  intimidate  the 
u  little  vagrant "  was  unpleasantly  puzzling. 

For  some  time  after  Edna's  departure  he  pondered  all 
Lhat  had  passed  between  them,  and  at  length  he  muttered . 

"  How  thoroughly  she  abhors  me !  If  I  touch  her,  the 
flesh  absolutely  writhes  away  from  my  hand,  as  if  I  were 
plague-stricken  or  a  leper.  Her  very  eyelids  shudder, 
when  she  looks  at  me — and  I  believe  she  would  more  will- 


ST.  ELMO.  81 

ingly  confront  Apollyon  himself.  Strange !  Low  she  de- 
tests me.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  make  her  love  me,  even 
despite  herself.  What  a  steady,  brave  look  of  scorn  there 
was  in  her  splendid  eyes  when  she  told  me  to  my  face  I 
was  sinful  and  cruel !" 

He  set  his  teeth  hard,  and  his  fingers  clinched  as  if  long 
lug  to  crush  something ;  and  then  came  a  great  revid- 
sion,  a  fierce  spasm  of  remorse,  and  his  features  writhed. 

"  Sinful  ?  Ay  !  Cruel  ?  O  my  lost  youth  !  my  cursed 
and  wrecked  manhood  !  If  there  be  a  hell  blacker  than  my 
miserable  soul,  man  has  not  dreamed  of  nor  language  painted 
it.  What  would  I  not  give  for  a  fresh,  pure,  and  untram- 
pled  heart,  such  as  slumbers  peacefully  in  yonder  room, 
with  no  damning  recollections  to  scare  sleep  from  her  pil- 
low ?     Innocent  childhood !" 

He  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands ;  and  thus  an  hour  went  by,  during  which  he  neither 
moved  nor  sighed. 

Tearing  the  veil,  from  the  past,  he  reviewed  it  calmly, 
relentlessly,  vindictively,  and  at  last,  l'ising,  he  threw  his 
head  back,  with  his  wonted  defiant  air,  and  his  face  hard- 
ened and  darkened  as  he  approached  the  marble  mauso- 
leum, and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  golden  key. 

"  Too  late !  too  late  !  I  can  not  afford  to  reflect.  The 
devil  himself  would  shirk  the  reading  of  such  a  record." 

He  fitted  the  key  in  the  lock,  but  paused  and  laughed 
scornfully  as  he  slung  it  back  on  his  chain. 

"  Pshaw  !  I  am  a  fool !  After  all,  I  shall  not  need  to  see 
them,  the  silly,  childish  mood  has  passed." 

He  filled  a  silver  goblet  with  some  strong  spicy  wine, 
drank  it,  and  taking  down  Candide,  brightened  the  gas- 
jets,  lighted  a  fresh  cigar,  and  began  to  read  as  he  re< 
suuied  his  walk : 

"  Lord  of  himself ;  tliat  heritage  of  woe — 
That  fearful  empire  which  the  human  "breast 
But  holds  to  rob  the  heart  within  of  rest" 


CHAPTER  VII. 


RS.  MURRAY  had  informed  Edna  that  the  gen- 
tleman whom  she  had  engaged  to  instruct  hei 

resided  in  the  neighboring,  town  of  ,  and 

one  Monday  morning  in  August  she  carried  hei 
to  see  him,  telling  her,  as  they  drove  along,  that  he  was  the 
minister  of  the  largest  church  in  the  country,  was  an  old  friend 
of  her  family,  and  that  she  considered  herself  exceedingly 
fortunate  in  having  prevailed  upon  him  to  consent  to  under- 
take her  education.  The  parsonage  stood  on  the  skirts  of 
the  village,  in  a  square  immediately  opposite  the  church, 
and  was  separated  from  it  by  a  wide  handsome  street,  lined 
on  either  side  with  elm  trees.  The  old-fashioned  house  was 
of  brick,  with  a  wooden  portico  jutting  out  over  the  front 
door,  and  around  the  slender  pillars  twined  honeysuckle 
and  clematis  tendrils,  purple  with  clustering  bells  ;  while 
the  brick  walls  were  draped  with  luxuriant  ivy,  that  hung 
in  festoons  from  the  eaves,  and  clambered  up  the  chimneys 
and  in  at  the  windows.  The  daily-swept  walk  leading  to 
the  gate  was  bordered  with  white  and  purple  lilies — "  flags," 
as  the  villagers  dubbed  them — and  over  the  little  gate 
sprang  an  arch  of  lattice-work  loaded  with  Belgian  and  Eng- 
lish honeysuckle,  whose  fragrant  wreaths  drooped  till  they 
touched  the  heads  of  all  who  entered.  When  Mrs.  Murray 
and  Edna  ascended  the  steps  and  knocked  at  the  open  door, 
bearing  the  name  "Allan  Hammond,"  no  living  thing 
was  visible,  save  a  th-rush  that  looked  out  shyly  from  the 
clematis  vines;  and  after  waiting  a  moment,  Mrs.  Murray 


ST.  ELMO.  83 

entered  unannounced.  They  looked  into  the  pa: lor,  with 
its  cool  matting  and  white  curtains  and  polished  old-fash- 
ioned mahogany  furniture,  but  the  room  was  unoccupied ; 
then  passing  on  to  the  library  or  study,  where  tiers  of 
books  rose  to  the  ceiling,  they  saw,  through  the  open  win* 
dow,  the  form  of  the  pastor,  who  was  stooping  to  gather 
the  violets  blooming  in  the  little  shaded  garden  at  the  rear 
of  the  house.  A  large  white  cat  sunned  herself  on  the 
strawberry  bed,  and  a  mocking-bird  sang  in  the  myrtle-tree 
that  overshadowed  the  study-window.  Mrs.  Murray  calleo. 
to  the  minister,  and  taking  off  his  straw  hat  he  bowed,  and 
came  to  meet  them. 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  I  hope  I  do  not  interrupt  you  ?" 

"  No,  Ellen,  you  never  interrupt  me.  I  was  merely 
gathering  some  violets  to  strew  in  a  child's  coffin.  Susan 
Archer,  poor  thing  !  lost  her  little  Winnie  last  night,  and  I 
knew  she  would  like  some  flowers  to  sprinkle  over  her 
baby." 

He  shook  hands  with  Mrs.  Murray,  and  turning  to  her 
companion  offered  his  hand,  saying  kindly  : 

"  This  is  my  pupil,  Edna,  I  presume  ?  I  expected  you 
several  days  ago,  and  am  very  glad  to  see  you  at  last. 
Come  into  the  house  and  let  us  become  acquainted  at 
once." 

As  he  led  the  way  to  the  library,  talking  the  while  to 
Mrs.  Murray,  Edna's  eyes  followed  him  with  an  expression 
of  intense  veneration,  for  he  appeared  to  her  a  living  origi- 
nal of  the  pictured  prophets — the  Samuel,  Isaiah,  and  Eze- 
kiel,  whose  faces  she  had  studied  in  the  large  illustrated 
Bible  that  lay  on  a  satin  cushion  in  the  sitting-rcom  at 
Le  Bocage.  Sixty-five  years  of  wrestling  and  conquests 
on  the  "  Quarantina"  of  life  had  set  upon  his  noble  and 
benignant  countenance  the  seal  of  holiness,  and  shed  over 
his  placid  features  the  mild,  sweet  light  of  a  pure,  serene 
heart,  of  a  lofty,  trusting,  sanctified  soul.  His  white  hair 
and  beard  had  the  silvery  sheen  which  seems  peculiar  to 


84  &T-  ELMC. 

prematurely  gray  heads,  and  the  snowy  mass  wondei fully 
softened  the  outline  of  the  face ;  while  the  pleasant  smile  on 
his  lips,  the  warm,  cheering  light  in  his  bright  blue  eyes, 
won  the  perfect  trust,  the  profound  respect,  the  lasting  love 
and  veneration  of  those  who  entered  the  charmed  circle  of 
his  influence.  Learned  without  pedantry,  dignified  but  not 
pompous,  genial  and  urbane ;  never  forgetting  the  sanctity 
of  his  mission,  though  never  thrusting  its  credentials  into 
notice  ;  judging  the  actions  of  all  with  a  leniency  which  he 
denied  to  his  own  ;  zealous  without  bigotry,  charitable  yet 
rigidly  just,  as  free  from  austerity  as  levity,  his  heart 
throbbed  with  warm,  tender  sympathy  for  his  race  ;  and 
while  none  felt  his  or  her  happiness  complete  until  his  cor- 
dial congratulations  sealed  it,  every  sad  mourner  realized 
that  her  burden  of  woe  was  lightened  when  poured  into 
his  sympathizing  ears.  The  sage  counselor  of  the  aged 
among  his  flock,  he  was  the  loved  companion  of  the 
younger  members,  in  whose  juvenile  sports  and  sorrows  he 
was  never  too  busy  to  interest  himself;  and  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  over  all  classes  and  denominations  he  wielded 
an  influence  incalculable  for  good.  The  limits  of  one 
church  could  not  contain  his  great  heart,  which  went  forth 
in  yearning  love  and  fellowship  to  his  Christian  brethren 
and  co-laborers  throughout  the  world,  while  the  refrain  of 
his  daily  work  was,  "  Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens."  So 
in  the  evening  of  a  life  blessed  with  the  bounteous  fruitage 
of  good  deeds,  he  walked  to  and  fro,  in  the  wide  vineyard 
of  God,  with  the  light  of  peace,  of  faith,  and  hope,  and 
•  sallowed  resignation  shining  over  his  worn  and  aged  face. 

Drawing  Edna  to  a  seat  beside  him  on  the  sofa,  Mr.  Ham 
mond  said  : 

"  Zdrs.  Murray  has  intrusted  your  education  entirely  to 
:ne;  but  before  I  decide  positively  what  books  you  will  re- 
quire I  should  like  to  know  what  particular  branches  of 
study  you  love  best.  Do  you  feel  disposed  to  take  up 
Latin  ?" 


ST.    ELMO. 


"Yes,  sir — and- 


"  Well,  go  on,  my  dear.   Do  not  hesitate  to  speak  frteiy." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  should  like  to  study  Greek  also." 

"  0  nonsense,  Edna !  women  never  have  any  use  for 
Greek  ;  it  would  only  be  a  waste  of  your  time,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Murray. 

Mr.  Hammond  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Why  do  you  wish  to  study  Greek  ?  You  will  scarcely 
be  called  upon  to  teach  it." 

"  I  should  not  think  that  I  was  well  or  thoroughly  edu- 
cated if  I  did  not  understand  Greek  and  Latin  ;  and  beside, 
I  want  to  read  what  Solon  and  Pericles  and  Demosthenes 
wrote  in  their  own  language." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  know  about  those  men  ?" 

"  Only  what  Plutarch  says." 

"  What  kind  of  books  do  you  read  with  most  pleasure  ?" 

"  History  and  travels." 

"  Are  you  fond  of  arithmetic  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  But  as  a  teacher  you  will  have  much  more  use  for  ma- 
thematics than  for  Greek." 

"  I  should  think  that,  with  all  my  life  before  me,  I  might 
study  both ;  and  even  if  I  should  have  no  use  for  it,  it  would 
do  me  no  harm  to  understand  it.  Knowledge  is  never  in 
the  way,  is  it  ?" 

"  Certainly  not  half  so  often  as  ignorance.  Very  well ; 
you  shall  learn  Greek  as  fast  as  you  please.  I  should  like 
to  hear  you  read  something.  Here  is  Goldsmith's  Desert- 
ed Village ;  suppose  you  try  a  few  lines ;  begin  here  at 
'  Sweet  was  the  sound.'  " 

She  read  aloud  the  passage  designated,  and  as  he  ex- 
pressed himself  satisfied,  and  took  the  book  from  her  hand, 
Mrs.  Murray  said : 

"I  think  the  child  is  as  inveterate  a  book-worm  as  I  ever 
knew ;  but  for  heaven's  sake,  Mr  Hammond,  do  not  make 
her  a  blue-stocking." 


86  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Ellen,  did  you  ever  see  a  genuine  blue-stocking  ?" 

"  I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  say  that  I  never  was  so  unfor 
tunate  !" 

"  You  consider  yourself  lucky,  then,  in  not  having  known 
De  Stael,  Hannah  More,  Charlotte  Bronte,  and  Mrs.  Brown 
ing  ?" 

"  To  be  consistent  of  course  I  must  answer  yes  ;  but  you 
know  we  women  are  never  supposed  to  understand  that 
term,  much  less  possess  the  jewel  itself;  and  beside,  sir, 
you  take  undue  advantage  of  me,  for  the  women  you  men- 
tion were  truly,  great  geniuses.  I  was  not  objecting  to 
genius  in  women." 

"  Without  those  auxiliaries  and  adjuncts  which  you  de. 
precate  so  earnestly,  would  their  native  genius  ever  have 
distinguished  them,  or  charmed  and  benefited  the  world  ? 
Brilliant  success  makes  blue-stockings  autocratic,  and  the 
world  flatters  and  crowns  them  ;  but  unsuccessful  aspirants 
are  strangled  with  an  offensive  sobriquet,  than  which  it 
were  better  that  they  had  millstones  tied  about  their  necks. 
After  all,  Ellen,  it  is  rather  ludicrous,  and  seems  very  unfair 
that  the  whole  class  of  literary  ladies  should  be  sneered  at 
on  account  of  the  color  of  Stillingfleet's  stockings  eighty 
years  ago." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  should  like  to  know  the  meaning  of 
'  blue-stocking '  ?"  said  Edna. 

"  You  are  in  a  fair  way  to  understand  it  if  you  study 
Greek,"  answered  Mrs.  Murray,  laughing  at  the  puzzled  ex 
pression  of  the  child's  countenance. 

Mr.  Hammond  smiled,  and  replied  : 

"  A  '  blue-stocking,'  my  dear,  is  generally  supposed  to  be 
a  lady,  neither  young,  pleasant,  nor  pretty,  (and  in  most 
instances  unmarried  ;)  who  is  unamiable,  ungraceful,  and 
untidy  ;  ignorant  of  all  domestic  accomplishments  and  truly 
feminine  acquirements,  and  ambitious  of  appearing  very 
learned  ;  a  woman  whose  fingers  are  more  frequently 
adorned  with  ink-spots  than  thimble ;  who  holds  housekeep- 


ST.  ELMO.  87 

ing  in  detestation,  and  talks  loudly  about  politics,  science-, 
and  philosophy ;  who  is  ugly,  and  learned,  and  cross  ;  whose 
hair  is  never  smooth  and  whose  ruffles  are  never  fluted.  la 
that  a  correct  likeness,  Ellen  ?" 

"  As  good  as  one  of  Brady's  photographs.  Take  warn- 
ing, Edna." 

"  The  title  of  '  blue-stocking,' "  continued  the  pastor, 
"  originated  in  a  jest,  many,  many  years  ago,  when  a  circle 
of  very  brilliant,  witty,  and  elegant  ladies  in  London,  met 
at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Vesey,  to  listen  to  and  take  part  in  the 
conversation  of  some  of  the  most  gifted  and  learned  mev 
England  has  ever  produced.  One  of  those  gentlemen,  Stil- 
lingfleet,  who  always  wore  blue  stockings,  was  so  exceed- 
ingly agreeable  and  instructive,  that  when  he  chanced  to 
be  absent  the  company  declared  the  party  was  a  failure 
without  '  the  blue  stockings,'  as  he  was  familiarly  called. 
A  Frenchman,  who  heard  of  the  circumstance,  gave  to  these 
conversational  gatherings  the  name  of  '  has  bleu,''  which 
means  blue  stocking ;  and  hence,  you  see,  that  in  popular 
acceptation,  I  mean  in  public  opinion,  the  humorous  title, 
which  was  given  in  compliment  to  a  very  charming  gentle- 
man, is  now  supposed  to  belong  to  very  tiresome,  pedantic, 
and  disagreeable  ladies.  Do  you  understand  the  matter 
now  ?" 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand  why  ladies  have  not  as  good 
a  right  to  be  learned  and  wise  as  gentlemen." 

"To  satisfy  you  on  that  point  would  involve  more  his- 
torical discussion  than  we  have  time  for  this  morning; 
some  day  we  will  look  into  the  past  and  find  a  solution  of 
the  question.  Meanwhile  you  may  study  as  hard  as  you 
please,  and  remember,  my  dear,  that  where  one  woman  is 
considered  a  blue-stocking,  and  tiresomely  learned,  twenty 
are  more  tiresome  still  because  they  know  nothing.  I  will 
obtain  all  the  books  you  need,  and  hereafter  you  must  come 
to  me  every  morning  at  nine  o'clock.  When  the  weather 
is  good,  you  can  easily  walk  over  from  Mrs.  Murray's." 


88  ST.  ELMO. 

As  they  rode  homeward,  Edna  asked  : 

"  Has  Mr.  Hammond  a  family  ?" 

"  No ;  he  lost  his  family  years  ago.  But  whj  do  you 
ask  that  question  ?" 

"  I  saw  no  lady,  and  I  wondered  who  kept  the  1  ouse  in 
such  nice  order." 

"  He  has  a  very  faithful  servant  who  attends  to  his  house- 
hold affairs.  In  your  intercourse  with  Mr.  Hammond  be 
careful  not  to  allude  to  his  domestic  afflictions." 

Mrs.  Murray  looked  earnestly,  searchingly  at  the  girl,  as 
as  if  striving  to  fathom  her  thoughts  ;  then  throwing  her 
head  back,  with  the  haughty  air  which  Edna  had  remarked 
in  St.  Elmo,  she  compressed  her  lips,  lowered  her  vail,  and 
remained  silent  and  abstracted  until  they  reached  home. 

The  comprehensive  and  very  thorough  curriculum  of 
studies  now  eagerly  commenced  by  Edna,  and  along  which 
she  was  gently  and  skillfully  guided  by  the  kind  hand  of 
the  teacher,  furnished  the  mental  aliment  for  which  she 
hungered,  gave  constant  and  judicious  exercise  to  her 
active  intellect,  and  induced  her  to  visit  the  quiet  parsonage 
library  as  assiduously  as  did  Horace,  Valgius,  and  Virgil 
the  gardens  on  the  Esquiline  where  Maecenas  held  his  lit- 
erary assize.  Instead  of  skimming  a  few  text-books  that 
cram  the  brain  with  unwieldy  scientific  technicalities  and 
pompous  philosophic  terminology,  her  range  of  thought  and 
study  gradually  stretched  out  into  a  broader,  grander  cycle, 
embracing,  as  she  grew  older,  the  application  of  those  great 
principles  that  underlie  modern  science  and  crop  out  in 
ever-varying  phenomena  and  empirical  classifications.  Ed- 
na's tutor  seemed  impressed  with  the  fallacy  of  the  popular 
system  of  acquiring  one  branch  of  learning  at  a  time,  lock- 
ing it  away  as  in  drawers  of  rubbish,  never  to  be  opened, 
where  it  moulders  in  shapeless  confusion  till  swept  out 
ultimately  to  make  room  for  more  recent  scientific  invoices. 
Thus  in  lieu  of  the  educational  plan  of  "  finishing  natural 
philosophy  and   chemistry  this   session,  and  geology  and 


ST.  ELMO.  89 

astronomy  next  term,  and  taking  up  mora,  science  and  ciit- 
icism  the  year  we  graduate,"  Mr.  Hammond  allowed  his 
pupil  to  finish  and  lay  aside  no  ae  of  her  studies ;  but  sought 
to  impress  upon  her  the  great  value  of  Blackstone's  aphor- 
ism :  "  For  sciences  are  of  a  sociable  disposition,  and  flour- 
ish best  in  the  neighborhood  of  each  other ;  nor  is  there 
any  branch  of  learning  but  may  be  helped  and  improved  by 
assistance  drawn  from  other  arts." 

Finding  that  her  imagination  was  remarkably  fertile,  he 
required  her,  as  she  advanced  in  years,  to  compose  essays, 
letters,  dialogues,  and  sometimes  orations,  all  of  which 
were  not  only  written  and  handed  in  for  correction,  but  he 
frequently  directed  her  to  recite  them  from  memory,  and 
invited  her  to  assist  him,  while  he  dissected  and  criticised 
either  her  diction,  line  of  argument,  choice  of  metaphors,  or 
intonation  of  voice.  In  these  compositions  he  encouraged 
her  to  seek  illustration  from  every  department  of  letters,  and 
convert  her  theme  into  a  focus,  upon  which  to  pour  all  the 
concentrated  light  which  research  could  reflect,  assuring 
her  that  what  is  often  denominated  "  far-fetchedness,"  in 
metaphors,  furnishes  not  only  evidence  of  the  laborious  in- 
dustry of  the  writer,  but  is  an  implied  compliment  to  the 
cultured  taste  and  general  knowledge  of  those  for  whose 
entertainment  or  edification  they  are  employed — provided 
always  said  metaphors  and  similes  really  illustrate,  eluci- 
date, and  adorn  the  theme  discussed — when  properly  under- 
stood. 

His  favorite  plea  in  such  instances  was,  "  If  Humboldt 
and  Cuvier,  and  Linnseus,  and  Ehrenberg  have  made  man- 
kind their  debtors  by  scouring  the  physical  cosmos  for 
scientific  data,  which  every  living  savant  devours,  assimi- 
lates, and  reproduces  in  dynamic,  physiologic,  or  entomolo- 
gic  theories,  is  it  not  equally  laudable  in  scholars,  orators, 
and  authors — nay,  is  it  not  obligatory  on  them,  to  subsi- 
dize the  vast  cosmos  of  literature,  to  circumnavigate  the 
world  of  belles-lettres,  m   search   of  new  hemispheres   of 


90  ST.  ELMO. 

thought,  and  spice  islands  of  illustrations,;  bringing  tJtii 
rich  gleanings  to  the  great  public  mart,  where  men  bartei 
their  intellectual  merchandise  ?  Wide  as  the  universe,  and 
free  as  its  winds,  should  be  the  range  of  human  mind." 

Yielding  allegiance  to  the  axiom  that  "  the  proper  study 
of  mankind  is  man,"  and  recognizing  the  fact  that  history 
faithfully  epitomizes  the  magnificent  triumphs  and  stupen- 
dous failures,  the  grand  capacities  and  innate  frailties  of 
the  races,  he  fostered  and  stimulated  his  pupil's  fondness 
for  historic  investigation ;  while  in  impressing  upon  her 
memory  the  chronologic  sequence  of  events  he  not  only 
grouped  into  great  epochs  the  principal  dramas,  over  which 
Clio  holds  august  critical  tribunal,  but  so  carefully  selected 
her  miscellaneous  reading,  that  poetry,  novels,  biography, 
and  essays  reflected  light  upon  the  actors  of  the  particular 
epoch  which  she  was  studying  ;  and  thus,  through  the  sub- 
tle but  imperishable  links  of  association  of  ideas,  chained 
them  in  her  mind. 

The  extensive  library  at  Le  Bocage,  and  the  valuable  col- 
lection of  books  at  the  parsonage,  challenged  research,  and, 
with  a  boundless  ambition,  equaled  only  by  her  patient, 
persevering  application,  Edna  devoted  herself  to  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  and  astonished  and  delighted  her 
teacher  by  the  rapidity  of  her  progress  and  the  vigor  and 
originality  of  her  restless  intellect, 

The  noble  catholicity  of  spirit  that  distinguished  Mr 
Hammond's  character  encouraged  her  to  discuss  freely  the 
ethical  and  psychological  problems  that  arrested  her  atten- 
tion as  she  grew  older,  and  facilitated  her  appreciation  and 
acceptance  of  the  great  fact,  that  all  bigotry  springs  from 
narrow  minds  and  partial  knowledge.  He  taught  her  that 
truth,  scorning  monopolies  and  deriding  patents,  lends  some 
valuable  element  to  almost  every  human  system  ;  that  ignor- 
ance, superstition,  and  intolerance  are  the  red-handed  Huns 
that  ravage  society,  immolating  the  pioneers  of  progress 
upon    the  shrine  of  prejudice — fettering  science — blindly 


ST.  ELMO.  9j 

bent  on  divorcing  natural  and  revealed  trut;..,  which  Goc 
"hath  joined  together"  in  holy  and  eternal  wedlock  ;  and 
while  they  battle  a  Voutrance  with  every  innovation,  loci 
the  wheels  of  human  advancement,  turning  a  deaf  ear  tc 
the  thrilling  cry  : 

'  Tfet  I  doubt  not  through,  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose  rung, 
And  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widened  with  the  process,  of  the  sune. 

If  Carlyle  be  correct  in  his  declaration  that  "  Truly  a 
thinking  man  is  the  worst  enemy  the  prince  of  darkness 
can  have,  and  every  time  such  a  one  announces  himself 
there  runs  a  shudder  through  the  nether  empire,  where  new 
emissaries  are  trained  with  new  tactics,  to  hoodwink  and 
handcuff  him,"  who  can  doubt  that  the  long  dynasty  of 
Eblis  will  instantly  terminate,  when  every  pulpit  in  Christ- 
endom, from  the  frozen  shores  of  Spitzbergen  to  the  green 
dells  of  Owhyhee,  from  the  shining  spires  of  Europe  to  the 
rocky  battlements  that  front  the  Pacific,  shall  be  filled  with 
meek  and  holy  men  of  ripe  scholarship  and  resistless  elo- 
quence, whose  scientific  erudition  keeps  pace  with  their 
evangelical  piety,  and  whose  irreproachable  lives  attest  that 
their  hearts  are  indeed  hallowed  temples  of  that  loving 
charity  "  that  suffereth  long  and  is  kind  ;  that  vaunteth  not 
itself,  is  not  puffed  up  ;  thinketh  no  evil ;  beareth  all  things, 
hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things"  ? 

While  Christ  walked  to  and  fro  among  the  palms  and 
poppies  of  Palestine,  glorifying  anew  an  accursed  and  de- 
graded human  nature,  unlettered  fishermen,  who  mended 
their  nets  and  trimmed  their  sails  along  the  blue  waves  of 
Galilee,  were  fit  instruments,  in  his  guiding  hands,  for  the 
dissemination  of  his  gospel ;  but  when  the  days  of  the  In- 
carnation ended,  and  Jesus  returned  to  the  Father,  all  the 
learning  and  the  mighty  genius  of  Saul  of  Tarsus  were  re- 
quired to  confront  and  refute  the  scoffing  sophists  who,  re- 
plete with  philhellenic  lore,  and  within  sight  of  the  mar- 
vellous triglyphs  and  metopes  of  the  Parthenon,  gathered 
on  Mars'  Hill  to  defend  their  marble  altars  '  to  the  Unknown 
God." 


V"*"- 


CHAPTER  Yin. 


URING  the  months  of  September  and  October 
Mrs.  Murray  filled  the  house  with  company, 
and  parties  of  gentlemen  came  from  time  to 
time  to  enjoy  the  game  season  and  take  part  in 
the  hunts  to  which  St.  Elmo  devoted  himself.  There  were 
elegant  dinners  and  petits  sotcpers  that  would  not  have 
disgraced  Tusculum,  or  made  Lucullus  blush  when  Pom- 
pey  and  Cicero  sought  to  sui^rise  him  in  the  "  Apollo ;" 
there  were  billiard-matches  and  horse-races,  and  merry 
gatherings  at  the  ten-pin  alley ;  and  laughter,  and  music, 
and  dancing  usurped  the  dominions  where  silence  and 
gloom  had  so  long  reigned.  Naturally  shy  and  unaccus- 
tomed to  companionship,  Edna  felt  no  desire  to  participate 
in  these  festivities,  but  became  more  and  more  absorbed  in 
her  studies,  and  her  knowledge  of  the  company  was  limited 
to  the  brief  intercourse  of  the  table,  where  she  observed 
the  deference  yielded  to  the  opinions  of  the  master  of  the 
house,  and  the  dread  that  all  manifested  lest  they  should 
fall  under  the  lash  of  his  merciless  sarcasm.  An  Ishmael  in 
society,  his  uplifted  hand  smote  all  conventionalities  and 
shams,  spared  neither  age  nor  sex,  nor  sanctuaries,  and  ac- 
knowledged sanctity  nowhere.  The  punctilious  courtesy 
of  his  manner  polished  and  pointed  his  satire,  and  when  a 
personal  application  of  his  remarks  was  possible,  he  would 
bow  gracefully  to  the  lady  indicated,  and  fill  her  glass  with 
wine,  while  he  filled  her  heart  with  chagrin  and  rankling 
hate.      Since  the  restoration  of  the  Dante,  not  a  word  had 


ST.  ELMO.  1)3 

passed  "between  him  and  Edna,  who  regarded  him  with  in- 
creasing detestation  ;  but  on  one  occasion,  when  the  con- 
versation was  general,  and  he  sat  silent  at  the  foot  of  the 
table,  she  looked  up  at  him  and  found  his  eyes  fixed  on  her 
face.  Inclining  his  head  slightly  to  arrest  her  attention,  he 
handed  a  decanter  of  sherry  to  one  of  the  servants,  with 
some  brief  direction,  and  a  moment  after  her  glass  was 
filled,  and  the  waiter  said  : 

.  "  Mr.  Murray's  compliments  to  Aaron  Hunt's  granddaugh- 
ter." Observation  had  taught  her  what  was  customary  on 
such  occasions,  and  she  knew  that  he  had  once  noticed  hei 
taking  wine  with  the  gentleman  who  sat  next  to  her ;  but 
now  repugnance  conquered  politeness,  the  mention  of  her 
grandfather's  name  seemed  an  insult  from  his  lips,  and  put- 
ting her  hand  over  her  glass,  she  looked  him  full  in  the 
face  and  shook  her  head.  Nevertheless  he  lifted  his  wine, 
bowed,  and  drank  the  last  drop  in  the  crystal  goblet ;  then 
turned  to  a  gentleman  on  his  right  hand,  and  instantly  en- 
tered into  a  learned  discussion  on  the  superiority  of  the 
wines  of  the  Levant  over  those  of  Germany,  quoting 
triumphantly  the  lines  of  M.  de  Nevers : 

"  Sur  la  membrane  de  leur  sens, 
Font  des  sillons  charmans." 

When  the  ladies  withdrew  to  the  parlor  he  rose,  as  was 
his  custom,  and  held  the  door  open  for  them.  Edna  was 
the  last  of  the  party,  and  as  she  passed  him  he  smiled 
mockingly  and  said : 

"It  was  unfortunate  that  my  mother  omitted  to  enumer- 
ate etiquette  in  the  catalogue  of  studies  prosecuted  at  the 
parsonage." 

Instantly  t<ie  answer  sprang  to  her  lips : 

"She  knew  I  had  a  teacher  for  that  branch,  nearer 
home ;"  but  her  conscience  smote  her,  she  repressed  the 
words,  and  said  gravely  : 

"  My  reason  was,  that  I  think  only  good  friends  should 
take  wine  together.' 


94  ST.  ELMO. 

"This  is  your  declaration  of  war?  Very  'well,  only 
remember  I  raise  a  black  flag  and  show  no  quarter.  Woe 
to  the  conquered  !" 

She  hurried  away  to  the  library,  and  thenceforth  "  kept 
out  of  his  way"  more  assiduously  than  ever;  while  the 
fact  that  he  scrutinized  her  closely,  rendered  her  con- 
strained and  uncomfortable,  when  forced  to  enter  his  pres- 
ence. Mrs.  Murray  well  understood  her  hostile  feeling 
toward  her  son,  but  she  never  alluded  to  it,  and  his  name 
was  not  mentioned  by  either. 

One  by  one  the  guests  departed ;  autumn  passed,  winter 
was  ushered  in  by  wailing  winds  and  drizzling  rains  ;  and 
one  morning  as  Edna  came  out  of  the  hothouse,  with  a 
basketful  of  camellias,  she  saw  St.  Elmo  bidding  his 
mother  good-by,  as  he  started  on  his  long  journey  to 
Oceanica.  They  stood  on  the  steps,  Mrs.  Murray's  head 
rested  on  his  shoulder,  and  bitter  tears  were  falling  on  her 
cheeks  as  she  talked  eagerly  and  rapidly  to  him.  Edna 
heard  him  say  impatiently : 

"  You  ask  what  is  impossible ;  it  is  worse  than  useless  to 
urge  me.  Better  pray  that  I  may  find  a  peaceful  grave  in 
the  cinnamon  groves  and  under  the  '  plumy  palms'  of  the 
far  South." 

lie  kissed  his  mother's  cheek  and  sprang  into  the  sad- 
dle, but  checked  his  horse  at  sight  .of  the  orphan,  who  stood 
a  few  yards  distant. 

"  Are  you  coming  to  say  good-by  ?  Or  do  you  reserve 
such  courtesies  for  your  '  good  friends '  ?" 

Regret  for  her  former  rudeness,  and  sympathy  for  Mrs 
Murray's  uncontrollable  distress,  softened  her  heart  toward 
him.  She  selected  the  finest  white  camellia  in  the  basket, 
walked  close  to  the  horse,  and,  tendering  the  flower,  said: 

"  Good-by,  sir.     I  hope  you  will  enjoy  your  travels." 

"  And  prolong  them  indefinitely  ?  Ah  !  you  offer  a  flag 
of  truce  ?  I  warned  you  I  should  not  respect  it.  You 
know  my  motto,  '  JVemo  me  impune  lacessitf    Thank  you 


8T.  ELMC.  95 

lor  this  lovely  peace-offering.  Since  you  are  aiding  to  ae- 
gotiate,  run  and  open  the  gate  for  me.  I  may  never  pass 
thi  ough  it  again  except  as  a  ghost." 

She  placed  her  basket  on  the  steps  and  ran  down  the 
avenue,  while  he  paused  to  say  something  to  his  mother. 
Edna  knew  that  he  expected  to  be  absent,  possibly,  several 
years,  and  while  she  regretted  the  pain  which  his  departure 
gave  her  benefactress,  she  could  not  avoid  rejoicing  at  the 
relief  she  promised  herself  during  his  sojourn  in  foreign  lands. 

Slowly  he  rode  along  the  venerable  aisle  of  elms  that  had 
overarched  his  childish  head  in  the  sunny  morning  of  a 
quickly  clouded  life,  and  as  he  reached  the  gate,  which 
Edna  held  open,  he  dismounted. 

"  Edna,  if  you  are  as  truthful  in  all  matters  as  you  have 
proved  in  your  dislikes,  I  may  safely  intrust  this  key  to 
your  keeping.  It  belongs  to  that  marble  temple  in  my 
sitting-room,  and  opens  a  vault  that  contains  my  will,  and 
a  box  of  papers,  and — some  other  things  that  I  value.  There 
is  no  possibility  of  entering  it,  except  with  this  key,  and  no 
one  but  myself  knows  the  contents.  I  wish  to  leave  the  key 
with  you,  on  two  conditions ;  first,  that  you  never  mention 
it  to  any  one — not  even  my  mother,  or  allow  her  to  suspect 
that  you  have  it ;  secondly,  that  you  promise  me  solemnly 
you  will  not  open  the  tomb  or  temple  unless  I  fail  to  return 
at  the  close  of  four  years.  This  is  the  tenth  of  December — 
four  years  from  to-day,  if  I  am  not  here,  and  if  you  have 
good  reason  to  consider  me  dead,  take  this  key  (which  I  wish 
you  to  wear  about  your  person)  to  my  mother,  inform  her 
of  this  conversation,  and  then  open  the  vault.  Can  you 
resist  the  temptation  to  look  into  it  ?  Think  well  before 
you  answer." 

He  had  disengaged  the  golden  key  from  his  watch-chain 
and  held  it  in  his  hand. 

"  I  should  not  like  to  take  charge  of  it,  Mr.  Murray.  You 
ran  certainly  trust  your  own  mother  sooner  than  an  utter 
stranger  like  myself." 


96  ST.  ELMO. 

He  frowned  and  muttered  an  oath ;  then  exclaimed, 
"  I  tell  you,  I  do  not  choose  to  leave  it  in  any  hands  but 
yours.     Will  you  promise  or  will  you  not  ?" 

The  dreary  wretchedness,  the  savage  hopelessness  of  hia 
countenance  awed  and  pained  the  girl,  and  after  a  moment's 
silence,  and  a  short  struggle  with  her  heart,  she  extended 
her  hand,  saying  with  evident  reluctance  : 

"  Give  me  the  key,  I  will  not  betray  your  trust." 
"  Do  you  promise  me  solemnly  that  you  will  never  open 
that  vault,  except  in  accordance  with  my  directions  ?  Weigh 
the  promise  well  before  you  give  it." 
"  Yes,  sir ;  I  promise  most  solemnly." 
He  laid  the  key  in  her  palm  and  continued  : 
"  My  mother  loves  you — try  to  make  her  happy  while  I 
am  away ;  and  if  you  succeed,  you  will  be  the  first  person 
to  whom  I  have  ever  been  indebted.     I  have  left  directions 
concerning  my  books  and  the  various  articles  in  my  rooms. 
Feel  no  hesitation  in  examining  any  that  may  interest  you, 
and  see  that  the  dust  does  not  ruin  them.     Good-by,  child  ; 
take  care  of  my  mother." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  she  gave  him  hers  for  an  instant 
only,  and  he  mounted,  lifted  his  cap,  and  rode  away. 

Closing  the  ponderous  gate,  Edna  leaned  her  face  against 
the  iron  bars,  and  watched  the  lessening  form.  Gradually 
trees  intervened,  then  at  a  bend  in  the  road  she  saw  him 
wheel  his  horse  as  if  to  return.  For  some  moments  he  re 
mained  stationary,  looking  back,  but  suddenly  disappeared , 
and,  with  a  sigh  of  indescribable  relief,  she  retraced  her 
steps  to  the  house.  As  she  approached  the  spot  where  Mrs, 
Murray  still  sat,  with  her  face  hidden  in  her  handkerchief 
the  touch  of  the  little  key,  tightly  folded  in  her  palm,  brought 
a  painful  consciousness  of  concealment  and  a  tinge  of  shame 
to  her  cheeks ;  for  it  seemed  in  her  eyes  an  insult  to  her 
benefactress  that  the  guardianship  of  the  papers  should 
have  been  withheld  from  her. 

She  would  have  stolen  away  to  her  own  rcom  to  secrete 


ST.  ELMO.  97 

the  key ;  but  Mrs.  Murray  called  her,  and  as  she  sat  down 
beside  her  the  miserable  mother  threw  her  amis  around  the 
orphan,  and  resting  her  cheek  on  her  head  wept  bitterly. 
Timidly,  but  very  gently  and  tenderly,  the  latter  strove  to 
comfort  her,  caressing  the  white  hands  that  were  clasped  in 
almost  despairing  anguish. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Murray,  do  not  grieve  so  deeply ;  he  may 
come  back  much  earlier  than  you  expect.  He  will  get  tired 
of  travelling,  and  come  back  to  his  own  beautiful  home, 
and  to  you,  who  love  him  so  devotedly." 

"  No,  no !  he  will  stay  away  as  long  as  possible.  It  is 
not  beautiful  to  him.  He  hates  his  home  and  forgets  me ! 
My  loneliness,  my  anxiety,  are  nothing  in  comparison  to  his 
niorbid  love  of  change.     I  shall  never  see  him  again." 

"  But  he  loves  you  very  much,  and  that  will  bring  him 
to  you." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?" 

"  He  pointed  to  you,  a  few  moments  ago,  and  his  face  was 
full  of  wretchedness  when  he  told  me,  '  Make  my  mother 
happy  while  I  am  gone,  and  you  will  be  the  first  person  to 
whom  I  have  ever  been  indebted.'  Do  not  weep  so,  dear 
Mrs.  Murray ;  God  can  preserve  him  as  well  on  sea  as  here 
at  home." 

"Oh!  but  he  will  not  pray  for  himself!"  sobbed  the 
mother. 

"  Then  you  must  pray  all  the  more  for  him  ;  and  go 
where  he  will,  he  can  not  get  beyond  God's  sight,  or  out 
of  His  merciful  hands.  You  know  Christ  said,  '  Whatso- 
ever you  ask  in  my  name,  I  will  do  it ;'  and  if  the  Syro- 
pbtnician's  daughter  was  saved  not  by  her  own  prayers 
but  by  her  mother's  faith,  why  should  not  God  save  your 
son  if  you  pray  and  believe  ?" 

Mrs.  Murray  clasped  Edna  closer  to  her  heart,  and  kissed 
her  warmly. 

"  You  are  my  only  comfort !  If  I  had  your  faith  I  should 
not  be  so  unhappy.     My  dear  child,  promise  me  one  thing, 


98  ST.  ELMO. 

that  every  time  you  pray  you  will  reuiembe.*  my  son,  cud 
ask  God  to  preserve  him  in  his  wanderings,  and  bring  hin 
safely  hack  to  his  mother  !     I  know  you  do  not  like  hin? 
but  for  my  sake  will  you  not  do  this  ?" 

"  My  prayers  are  not  worth  much,  but  I  will  always  re 
member  to  pray  for  him  ;  and,  Mrs.  Murray,  while  he  ii 
away,  suppose  you  have  family  prayer,  and  let  all  the  house 
hold  join  in  praying  for  the  absent  master.  I  think  it  would 
be  such  a  blessing  and  comfort  to  you.  Grandpa  always 
had  prayer  night  and  morning,  and  it  made  every  day  seem 
almost  as  holy  as  Sunday." 

Mrs.  Murray  was  silent  a  little  while,  and  answered  hesi- 
tatingly : 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  should  not  know  how  to  offer  up  prayers 
before  the  family.  I  can  pray  for  myself,  but  I  should  not 
like  to  pray  aloud." 

There  was  a  second  pause,  and  finally  she  said : 

"  Edna,  would  you  be  willing  to  conduct  prayers  for 
me?" 

"  It  is  your  house,  and  God  expects  the  head  of  every 
family  to  set  an  example.  Even  the  pagans  offered  sacri- 
fices every  day  for  the  good  of  the  household,  and  you  know 
the  Jews  had  morning  and  evening  sacrifices  ;  so  it  seema 
to  me  family  prayer  is  such  a  beautiful  offering  on  the  altar 
of  the  hearthstone.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  pray  yourself, 
you  could  read  a  prayer ;  there  is  a  book  called  Family 
Prayer,  with  selections  for  every  day  in  the  week.  I  saw  a 
copy  at  the  parsonage,  and  I  can  get  one  like  it  at  the  book- 
store if  you  desire  it." 

"  That  will  suit  my  purpose  much  better  than  trying  to 
compose  them  myself.  You  must  get  the  book  for  me. 
But,  Edna,  don't  go  to  school  to-day,  stay  at  home  with 
me ;  I  am  so  lonely  and  low-spirited.  I  will  tell  Mr.  Ham- 
mond that  I  could  not  spare  you.  Beside,  I  want  you  t<*» 
help  me  arrange  some  valuable  relics  belonging  to  my  son  ; 
and  now  that  I  think  of  it,  he  told  me  he  wished  you  to  use 


SI.  ELMO.  9<j 

any  of  Ms  books  or  mss.  that  you  migLt  like  to  examine. 
This  is  a  great  honor,  child,  for  he  has  refused  maLy  grown 
people  admission  to  his  rooms.  Come  with  me,  I  want  to 
lock  up  his  curiosities." 

They  went  through  the  rotundo  and  into  the  rooms  to- 
gether ;  and  Mrs.  Murray  busied  herself  in  carefully  remov- 
ing the  cameos,  intaglios,  antique  vases,  goblets,  etc.,  etc., 
from  the  tables,  and  placing  them  in  the  drawers  of  the 
cabinets.  As  she  crossed  the  room  tears  fell  on  the  costly 
trifles,  and  finally  she  approached  the  beautiful  miniature 
temple,  and  stooped  to  look  at  the  fastening.  She  selected 
the  smallest  key  on  the  bunch,  that  contained  a  dozen,  and 
attempted  to  fit  it  in  the  small  opening,  but  it  was  too  large ; 
then  she  tried  her  watch-key,  but  without  success,  and  a 
look  of  chagrin  crossed  her  sad,  tear-stained  face — 

"  St.  Elmo  has  forgotten  to  leave  the  key  with  me." 

Edna's  face  grew  scarlet,  and  stooping  to  pick  up  a  heavy 
cornelian  seal  that  had  fallen  on  the  carpet,  she  said  hastily: 

"  What  is  that  marble  temple  intended  to  hold  ?" 

"  I  have  no  idea  ;  it  is  one  of  my  son's  oriental  fancies.  I 
presume  he  uses  it  as  a  private  desk  for  his  papers." 

"Does  he  leave  the  key  with  you  when  he  goes  from 
home  ?" 

"  This  is  the  first  time  he  has  left  home  for  more  than  a 
few  weeks  since  he  brought  this  gem  from  the  East.  I 
must  write  to  him  about  the  key  before  he  sails.  He  has 
it  on  his  watch-chain." 

The  same  curiosity  which,  in  ages  long  past,  prompted 
the  discovery  of  the  Eleusinian  or  Cabiri  mysteries  now 
suddenly  took  possession  of  Edna,  as  she  looked  wondering- 
ly  at  the  shining  facade  of  the  exquisite  Taj  Mahal,  and  felt 
that  only  a  promise  stood  between  her  and  its  contents. 

Escaping  to  her  own  room,  she  proceeded  to  secrete  the 
troublesome  key,  and  to  reflect  upon  the  unexpected  cir- 
cumstances which  not  only  rendered  it  her  duty  to  pray  for 
the  wanderer   but  necessitated  her  keeping  always  about 


100  ST.  ELMO. 

her  a  souvenir  of  the  man  whom  she  could  net  avoid  detest- 
ing, and  was  yet  forced  to  remember  continually. 

On  the  following  day,  when  she  went  to  her  usual  morn- 
ing recitation,  and  gave  the  reason  for  her  absence,  she 
noticed  that  Mr.  Hammond's  hand  trembled,  and  a  look  of 
keen  sorrow  settled  on  his  face. 

"  Gone  again  !  and  so  soon !  So  far,  far  away  from  all 
good  influences  !" 

He  put  down  the  Latin  grammar  and  walked  to  the  win 
dow,  where  he  stood  for  some  time,  and  when  he  returned 
to  his  arm-chair  Edna  saw  that  the  muscles  of  his  face  were 
unsteady. 

"Did  he  not  stop  to  tell  you  good-by?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  he  never  comes  to  the  parsonage  now. 
When  he  was  a  boy,  I  taught  him  here  in  this  room,  as  I 
now  teach  you.  But  for  fifteen  years  he  has  not  crossed  my 
threshold,  and  yet  I  never  sleep  until  I  have  prayed  for 
him." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  that !  ISTow  I  know  he  will 
be  saved." 

The  minister  shook  his  gray  head,  and  Edna  saw  tears 
in  his  mild  blue  eyes  as  he  answered : 

"A  man's  repentance  and  faith  can  not  be  offered  by 
proxy  to  God.  So  long  as  St.  Elmo  Murray  persists  in  in- 
sulting his  Maker,  I  shudder  for  his  final  end.  He  has  the 
finest  intellect  I  have  ever  met  among  living  men  ;  but  it  is 
unsanctified — worse  still,  it  is  dedicated  to  the  work  of 
scoffing  at  and  blaspheming  the  truths  of  religion.  In  hia 
youth  he  promised  to  prove  a  blessing  to  his  race  and  an 
ornament  to  Christianity ;  now  he  is  a  curse  to  the  world 
and  a  dreary  burden  to  himself." 

"  What  changed  him  so  sadly  ?" 

"  Some  melancholy  circumstances  that  occurred  early  in 
his  life.  Edna,  he  planned  and  built  that  beautiful  church 
where  you  come  on  Sabbath  to  hear  me  preach,  and  about 
the  time  it  was  finished  he  went  off  to  college.     When  he 


ST.  ELMO.  101 

returned  he  avoided  me,  and  has  never  yet  bee:  inside  oi 
the  costly  church  which  his  taste  and  his  money  construct- 
ed. Still,  while  I  live,  I  shall  not  sease  to  pray  for  him, 
hoping  that  in  God's  own  good  time  he  will  bring  him  back 
to  the  puro  faith  of  his  boyhood." 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  is  he  not  a  very  wicked  man  ?" 

"  He  had  originally  the  noblest  heart  I  ever  knew,  and 
was  as  tender  in  his  sympathies  as  a  woman,  while  he  was 
almost  reckless  in  his  munificent  charities.  But  in  his  pre- 
sent irreligious  state  I  hear  that  he  has  grown  bitter  and 
sour  and  illiberal.  Yet,  however  repulsive  his  manner  may 
be,  I  can  not  believe  that  his  nature  is  utterly  perverted. 
He  is  dissipated  but  not  unprincipled.  Let  him  rest,  my 
child,  in  the  hands  of  his  God,  who  alone  can  judge  him. 
We  can  but  pray  and  hope.     Go  on  with  your  lesson." 

The  recitation  was  resumed  and  ended ;  but  Edna  was 
well  aware  that  for  the  first  time  her  teacher  was  inatten- 
tive, and  the  heavy  sighs  that  passed  his  lips  almost  uncon- 
sciously told  her  how  sorely  he  was  distressed  by  the  er- 
ratic course  of  his  quondam  pupil. 

When  she  rose  to  go  home  she  asked  the  name  of  the 
author  of  the  Family  Prayers  which  she  wished  to  purchase 
for  Mrs.  Murray,  and  the  pastor's  face  flushed  with  plea- 
sure as  he  heard  of  her  cherished  scheme. 

"  My  dear  child,  be  circumspect,  be  prudent ;  above  all 
things,  be  consistent.  Search  your  own  heart ;  try  to  make 
your  life  an  exposition  of  your  faith ;  let  profession  and 
practice  go  hand  in  hand ;  ask  God's  special  guidance  in 
the  difficult  position  in  which  you  are  placed,  and  your  in- 
fluence for  good  in  Mrs.  Murray's  family  may  be  beyond 
all  computation."  Laying  his  hands  on  her  head,  he  con- 
tinued tremulously :  "  O  my  God  !  if  it  be  thy  will,  make 
her  the  instrument  of  rescuing,  ere  it  be  indeed  too  late. 
Help  me  to  teach  her  aright ;  and  let  her  pure  life  atone  for 
all  the  inconsistencies  and  wrongs  that  have  well-nigh 
wrought,  eternal  ruin." 


102  ST.  ELMO. 

Turning  quickly  away,  he  left  the  roon,  before  she  could 
even  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  countenance. 

The  strong  and  lasting  affection  that  sprang  up  between 
instructor  and  pupil — the  sense  of  dependence  on  each 
other's  society — rarely  occurs  among  persons  in  whose  ages 
so  great  a  disparity  exists.  Spring  and  autumn  have  no 
affinities — age  has  generally  no  sympathy  for  the  gushing 
sprightliness,  the  eager  questioning,  the  rose-hued  dreams 
and  aspirations  of  young  people ;  and  youth  shrinks  chilled 
and  constrained  from  the  austere  companionship  of  those 
who,  with  snowy  locks  gilded  by  the  fading  rays  of  a  setting 
sun,  totter  down  the  hill  of  life,  journeying  to  the  dark  and 
silent  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death. 

Preferring  Mr.  Hammond's  society  to  that  of  the  com- 
parative strangers  who  visited  Mrs.  Murray,  Edna  spent 
half  of  her  time  at  the  quiet  parsonage,  and  the  remainder 
with  her  books  and  music.  That  under  auspices  so  favor- 
able her  progress  was  almost  unprecedentedly  rapid,  fur- 
nished matter  of  surprise  to  no  one  who  was  capable  of  esti- 
mating the  results  of  native  genius  and  vigorous  applica- 
tion. Mrs.  Murray  watched  the  expansion  of  her  mind, 
and  the  development  of  her  beauty,  with  emotions  of  pride 
and  pleasure,  which,  had  she  analyzed  them,  would  have 
told  her  how  dear  and  necessary  to  her  happiness  the  orphan 
had  become. 

As  Edna's  reasoning  powers  strengthened,  Mr.  Hammond 
led  her  gradually  to  the  contemplation  of  some  of  the  grav- 
est problems  that  have  from  time  immemorial  perplexed 
and  maddened  humanity,  plunging  one  half  into  blind,  big- 
oted traditionalism,  and  scourging  the  other  into  the  dreary, 
sombre,  starless  wastes  of  Pyrrhonism.  Knowing  full  well 
that  of  every  earnest  soul  and  honest,  profound  thinker 
these  ontologic  questions  would  sooner  or  later  demand 
audience,  he  wisely  placed  her  in  the  philosophic  pcdcestra, 
encouraged  her  wrestlings,  cheered  her  on,  handed  her 
from  time  to  time  the  instruments  and  aids  she  needed, 


ST.  ELMO.  103 

and  then,  when  satisfied  that  the  intellect.  lal  gymnastics 
had  properly  trained  and  developed  her,  he  invited  her — 
where  he  felt  assured  the  spirit  of  the  age  would  inevitably 
drive  her  —  to  the  great  Pythian  games  of  speculation, 
where  the  lordly  intellects  of  the  nineteenth  century  gather 
to  test  their  ratiocinative  skill,  and  bear  off  the  crown  of 
bay  on  the  point  of  a  syllogism  or  the  wings  of  an  auda- 
cious hypothesis. 

Thus  immersed  in  study,  weeks,  months,  and  years  glided 
by,  bearing  her  young  life  swiftly  across  the  Enna  meads 
of  girlhood,  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  portals  of  that  mystic 
temple  of  womanhood,  on  whose  fair  fretted  shrine  was  to 
be  offered  a  heart  either  consumed  by  the  baleful  fires  of 
Baal,  or  purified  and  consecrated  by  the  Shekiuah,  promised 
through  Messiah. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


TJRING  the  first  year  of  Mr.  Murray's  absence, 
his  hrief  letters  to  his  mother  were  written  at 
long  intervals  ;  in  the  second,  they  were  rarer 
and  briefer  still ;  but  toward  the  close  of  the 
third  he  wrote  more  frequently,  and  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  revisiting  Egypt  before  his  return  to  the  land  of  his 
birth.  Although  no  allusion  was  ever  made  to  Edna,  Mrs. 
Murray  sometimes  read  aloud  descriptions  of  beautiful  sce- 
nery, written  now  among  the  scoria?  of  Mauna  Roa  or 
Mauna  Kea,  and  now  from  the  pinnacle  of  Mount  Ophir, 
whence,  through  waving  forests  of  nutmeg  and  clove, 
flashed  the  blue  waters  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  or  the  silver 
ripples  of  Malacca  ;  and,  on  such  occasions,  the  orphan  lis- 
tened eagerly,  entranced  by  the  tropical  luxuriance  and 
grandeur  of  his  imagery,  by  his  gorgeous  word-painting, 
which  to  her  charmed  ears  seemed  scarcely  inferior  to  the 
wonderful  pen-portraits  of  Ruskin.  .  Those  letters  seemed 
flecked  with  the  purple  and  gold,  the  amber  and  rose,  the 
opaline  and  beryline  tints,  of  which  he  spoke  in  telling 
the  glories  of  Polynesian  and  Malaysian  skies,  and  the 
matchless  verdure  and  floral  splendors  of  their  serene  spicy 
dells.  For  many  days  after  the  receipt  of  each, Mrs.  Mur- 
ray was  graver  and  sadder,  but  the  spectre  that  had  dis- 
quieted Edna  was  thoroughly  exorcised,  and. only  when  the 
cold  touch  of  the  golden  key  startled  her  was  she  conscious 
of  a  vague  dread  of  some  far-off  but  slowly  and  surely  ap- 
proaching evil.     In  the  fourth  year  of  her  pupilage  she  was 


ST.    ELMO.  1()5 

possessed  by  an  unconquerable  desire  to  read  the  Ta.:mid, 
and  in  ordei  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  and  seize  the  trea- 
sures hidden  in  that  exhaustless  mine  of  Oriental  myths, 
legends,  and  symbolisms,  she  prevailed  upon  Mr.  Hammond 
to  teach  her  Hebrew  and  the  rudiments  of  Chaldee.  Very 
reluctantly  and  disapprovingly  be  consented,  and  subse- 
quently informed  her  that,  as  he  had  another  pupil  who 
was  also  commencing  Hebrew,  he  would  class  them,  and 
hear  their  recitations  together.  This  new  student  was 
Mr.  Gordon  Leigh,  a  lawyer  in  the  town,  and  a  gentleman 
of  wealth  and  high  social  position.  Although  quite  young, 
he  gave  promise  of  eminence  in  his  profession,  and  was  a 
great  favorite  of  the  minister,  who  pronounced  him  the 
most  upright  and  exemplary  young  man  of  his  acquaint- 
ance. Edna  had  seen  him  several  times  at  Mrs.  Murray's 
dinners,  but  while  she  thought  him  exceedingly  handsome, 
polite,  and  agreeable,  she  regarded  him  as  a  stranger,  until 
the  lessons  at  the  Parsonage  brought  them  every  two  days 
around  the  little  table  in  the  study.  They  began  the  lan- 
guage simultaneously ;  but  Edna,  knowing  the  nattering  es- 
timation in  which  he  was  held,  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  measure  her  intellect  with  his,  and  soon  threatened 
to  outrun  him  in  the  Talmud  race.  Piqued  pride  and  a 
manly  resolution  to  conquer  spurred  him  on,  and  the  ven- 
erable instructor  looked  on  and  laughed  at  the  generous 
emulation  thus  excited.  He  saw  an  earnest  friendship  daily 
strengthening  between  the  rivals,  and  knew  that  in  Gordon 
Leigh's  magnanimous  nature  there  was  no  element  which 
could  cause  an  objection  to  the  companionship  to  which  he 
had  paved  the  way. 

Fdut  months  after  the  commencement  of  the  new  study, 
Edna  rose  at  daylight  to  complete  some  exercises,  which 
she  had  neglected  to  write  out  on  the  previous  evening, 
and  as  soon  as  she  concluded  the  task,  went  down  stairs  to 
gather  the  flowers,  It  was  the  cloudless  morning  of  her 
seventeenth  birthday  and  as  she  stood  clipping  geraniums 


106  •         ST.  ELjJO. 

and  jasmine  and  verbena,  memory  flew  back  to  i-ae  tender 
years  in  which  the  grisly  blacksmith  had  watched  hei  career 
with  such  fond  pride  and  loving  words  of  encouragement, 
and  painted  the  white-haired  old  man  smoking  on  the  porch 
that  fronted  Lookout,  while  from  his  lips,  tremulous  with 
a  tender  smile,  seemed  to  float  the  last  words  he  had 
spoken  to  her  on  that  calm  afternoon  when,  in  the  fiery 
light  of  a  dying  day,  he  was  gathered  to  his  forefathers  : 

"  You  will  make  me  proud  of  you,  my  little  Pearl,  when 
you  are  smart  enough  to  teach  a  school  and  take  care  of  me, 
for  I  shall  be  too  old  to  work  by  that  time." 

Now,  after  the  .lapse  of  years,  when  her  educational 
course  was  almost  finished,  she  recalled  every  word  and 
look  and  gesture  ;  even  the  thrill  of  horror  that  shook  her 
limbs  when  she  kissed  the  lips  that  death  had  sealed  an 
hour  before.  Mournfully  vivid  was  her  recollection  of  her 
tenth  birthday,  for  then  he  had  bought  her  a  blue  ribbon 
for  her  hair,  and  a  little  china  cup  and  saucer;  and  now 
tears  sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she  murmured:  "I  have  stud- 
ied hard,  and  the  triumph  is  at  hand,  but  I  have  nobody  to 
be  proud  of  me  now!  Ah  Grandpa!  if  you  could  only 
come  back  to  me,  your  little  Pearl !  It  is  so  desolate  to  be 
alone  in  this  great  world  ;  so  hard  to  have  to  know  that 
nobody  cares  specially  whether  I  live  or  die,  whether  I 
succeed  or  fail  ignominiously.  I  have  only  myself  to  live 
for  ;  only  my  own  heart  and  will  to  sustain  and  stimulate 
me." 

Through  the  fringy  acacias  that  waved  their  long  hair 
across  the  hothouse  windows,  the  golden  sunshine  flickered 
over  the  graceful,  rounded,  lithe  figure  of  the  orphan — over 
the  fair  young  face  Avith  its  delicate  cameo  features,  warm, 
healthful  coloring,  and  brave,  hopeful  expression.  Pour 
years  had  developed  the  pretty,  sad-eyed  child  into  a  lovely 
woman,  with  a  pure  heart  filled  with  humble,  unostentatious 
piety,  and  a  clear,  vigorous  intellect  inured  to  study,  and  am- 
bitious of  every  honorable  eminence  within  the  grasp  of  true 
womanhood. 


ST.  ELMO.  107 

To-day,  .ife  stretched  before  her  like  the  untried  universe 
spread  out  to  Phaeton's  wondering  vision,  as  he  stood  in  the 
dazzling  palace  of  the  sun,  extending  his  eager  hands  for 
the  reins  of  the  immortal  car,  aspiring  to  light  the  world,  and, 
until  scathed  by  fatal  experience,  utterly  incapable  of  appre- 
ciating the  perils  and  sufferings  that  awaited  his  daring 
scheme.  According  to  the  granitic  and  crystal  oracles  of 
geology,  Rosacea?  flushed,  rouged  the  wrinkled  face  of  this 
sibylline  earth  before  the  advent  of  man,  the  garden-tender 
and  keeper ;  and  thus  for  untold  and  possibly  unimagined 
centuries,  fresh  pearly  rose-buds  have  opened  each  year,  at 
the  magic  breath  of  spring,  expanded  into  bloom  and  sym- 
metry perfect  as  Sharon's  proverb  ;  and  while  the  dew  still 
glistened  and  the  perfume  rose  like  incense,  ere  the  noon 
of  their  brief  reign,  have  blackened  and  crumbled  as  the 
worm  gnawed  its  way,  or  have  blanched  and  shivered  and 
died  in  the  fierce  storms  that  swept  over  their  blushing  but 
stately  heads,  and  bowed  them  for  ever.  If  earth  keeps 
not  good  faith  with  her  sinless  floral  children,  how  dare 
frail,  erring  man  hope  or  demand  that  his  fleeting  June-day 
existence  should  be  shrouded  by  no  clouds,  scorched  by  no 
lightnings,  overtaken  by  no  cold  shades  of  early  night9 
But  the  gilding  glamour  of  childlike  hope  softens  and 
shields  from  view  the  rough  inequalities  and  murderous 
quicksands  of  futurity,  mellowing  all,  like  the  silvery  lustre 
of  Kensett's  "  Ullswater,"  or  the  rich  purple  haze  that 
brims  far-off  yawning  chasms,  and  tenderly  tapestries  the 
bleak,  bald  crags  that  pile  themselves  up  into  vast  mountain 
chains,  with  huge  shining  shrines,  draped  with  crystal  palls 
of  snow.  Edna  had  endeavored  to  realize  and  remember 
what  her  Bible  first  taught  her,  and  what  moralists  of  all 
creeds,  climes,  and  ages,  had  reiterated — that  human  life 
was  at  best  but  "  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,"  that  "  man 
is  born  to  trouble  as  the  sparks  fly  upward ;"  yet  as  she 
stood  on  the  line,  narrow  and  thin  as  Al-Sirat,  that  divides 
girlhood,  and  womanhood,    all    seemed  to  her  fresh,  pure 


108  ST.  ELMO. 

heart  as  inviting  and  bewitching  as  the  magnificent  p^iKrrt 
ma  upon  which  enraptured  lotophagi  gazed  from  the  an- 
cient acropolis  of  Cyrene. 

As  Edna  turned  to  leave  the  hothouse,  the  ring  of  horse's 
hoofs  on  the  rocky  walk  attracted  her  attention,  and,  a 
moment  after,  Mr.  Leigh  gave  his  horse  to  the  gardener, 
and  came  to  meet  her. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Edna.  As  I  am  bearer  of  dis- 
patches from  my  sister  to  Mrs.  Murray,  I  have  invited 
myself  to  breakfast  with  you." 

"  You  are  an  earlier  riser  than  I  had  supposed,  Mr.  Leigh, 
from  your  lamentations  over  your  exercises." 

"  I  do  not  deny  that  I  love  my  morning  nap,  and  gener- 
rally  indulge  myself;  for,  like  Sydney  Smith,  '  I  can  easily 
make  up  my  mind  to  rise  early ;  but  I  can  not  make  up 
my  body.'  In  one  respect  I  certainly  claim  equality  with 
Thorwaldsen,  my  'talent  for  sleeping'  is  inferior' neither  to 
his  nor  Goethe's.  Do  you  know  that  we  are  both  to  have  a 
holiday  to-day  V" 

"  No,  sir ;  upon  what  score  ?" 

"  It  happens  to  be  my  birthday  as  well  as  yours,  and  as 
my  sister,  Mrs.  Inge,  gives  a  party  to-night  in  honor  of  the 
event,  I  have  come  to  insist  that  my  classmate  shall  enjoy 
the  same  reprieve  that  I  promise  niyself.  Mrs.  Inge  com- 
missioned me  to  insure  your  presence  at  her  party." 

"Thank  you;  but  I  never  go  out  to  parties." 

"  But  bad  precedents  must  not  guide  you  any  longer.  Ii 
you  persist  in  staying  at  home,  I  shall  not  enjoy  the  evening, 
for  in  every  dance  I  shall  fancy  my  vis-a-vis  your  spectre, 
with  an  exercise  in  one  hand  and  a  Hebrew  grammar  in 
the  other.  A  propos  !  Mr.  Hammond  told  me  to  say  that 
he  would  not  expect  you  to-day,  but  would  meet  you  to- 
night at  Mrs.  Inge's.  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  to 
decline,  for  I  shall  arrange  matters  with  Mrs.  Murray.  In 
honor  of  my  birthday  will  you  not  give  me  a  sprig  of  some- 
thing  sweet  from  your  basket  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  109 

They  sat  clown  on  the  steps  of  the  dining-room,  and  Edna 
selected  some  delicate  oxalis  cups  and  nutmeg  geranium 
leaves,  which  she  tied  up,  and  handed  to  her  companion. 

Fastening  them  in  the  button-hole  of  his  coat,  he  drew  4 
small  box  from  his  pocket,  and  said : 

"  I  noticed  last  week,  when  Mr.  Hammond  was  explaining 
the  Basilidian  tenets,  you  manifested  some  curiosity  con 
cerning  their  amulets  and  mythical  stones.  Many  years 
ago,  while  an  uncle  of  mine  was  missionary  in  Arabia,  he 
saved  the  life  of  a  son  of  a  wealthy  sheik,  and  received 
from  him,  in  token  of  his  gratitude,  a  curious  ring,  which 
tradition  said  once  belonged  to  a  caliph,  and  had  been 
found  near  the  ruins  of  Chilminar.  The  ring  was  bequeathed 
to  me,  and  is  probably  the  best  authenticated  antique  in 
this  country.  Presto !  we  are  in  Bagdad !  in  the  blessed 
reign — 

f     ...     in  the  golden  prime 
Of  good  Haroun  Alraschid  !'        i 

I  am  versed  in  neither  Cufic  nor  Neskhi  lore,  but  the 
characters  engraved  on  this  ring  are  said  to  belong  to  the 
former  dialect,  and  to  mean  '  Peace  be  with  thee,'  which  is, 
and  I  believe  has  been,  from  time  immemorial,  the  national 
salutation  of  the  Arabs." 

He  unwound  the  cotton  that  enveloped  the  gem,  and  held 
it  before  Edna's  eyes. 

A  broad  band  of  dusky  tarnished  gold  was  surmounted 
by  a  large,  crescent-shaped  emerald,  set  with  beautiftd 
pearls,  and  underneath  the  Arabic  inscription  was  engraved 
a  ram's  head,  bearing  on  one  horn  a  small  crescent,  on  the 
other  a  star. 

As  Edna  bent  forward  to  examine  it  Mr.  Leigh  continued : 
"  I  do  not  quite  comprehend  the  symbolism  of  the  ram's 
head  and  the  star ;  the  crescent  is  clear  enough." 

"  I  think  I  can  guess  the  meaning."    Edna's  eyes  kindled, 
"Tell  me  your  conjecture;  my  own  does  not  satisfy  me, 


HO  ST.  ELMO. 

as  the  Arabic  love  of  mutton  is  the  only  solution  afc  which 
I  hare  arrived." 

"  O  Mr.  Leigh !  look  at  it  and  think  a  moment." 

"  Well,  I  have  looked  at  it  and  thought  a  great  deal,  and 
I  tell  you  mutton-broth  sherbet  is  the  only  idea  suggested  to 
my  mind.  You  need  not  look  so  shocked,  for,  when  cooled 
with  the  snows  of  Caucasus,  I  am  told  it  makes  a  beverage 
fit  for  Greek  gods." 

"  Think  of  the  second  chapter  of  St.  Luke." 

He  pondered  a  moment,  and  answered  gravely : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  do  not  remember  that  particu- 
lar chapter  well  enough  to  appreciate  your  clew." 

She  hesitated,  and  the  color  deepened  on  her  cheek  aa 
she  repeated,  in  a  low  voice : 

"  '  And  there  were  in  the  same  country  shepherds  abid- 
ing in  the  field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night. 
And,  lo,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round  about  them.  And  suddenly 
there  was  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host 
praising  God,  and  saying,  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men.' 

"  Mr.  Leigh,  the  star  on  the  ram's  hom  may  be  the  Star 
of  Bethlehem  that  shone  over  the  manger,  and  the  Arabic 
inscription  is  certainly  the  salutation  of  the  angel  to  the 
shepherds.  '  Peace,  good  will  toward  men,'  says  St.  Luke  ; 
'  Peace  be  with  thee,'  said  Islamism:" 

"  Your  solution  seems  plausible,  but,  pardon  me,  is  totally 
inadmissible,  from  the  fact  that  it  blends  crescent  and 
cross,  and  ignores  antagonisms  that  deluged  centuries  with 
blood." 

"  You  forget,  Mr.  Leigh,  that  Mohammedanism  is  noth- 
ing but  a  hu<xe  eclecticism,  and  that  its  founder  stole  its 
elements  from  surrounding  systems.  The  symbolism  of  the 
crescent  he  took  from  the  mysteries  of  Isis  and  Astarte ' 
the  ethical  code  of  Christ  he  engrafted  on  the  monotheism 
of  Judasism ;  his  typical  forms  are  drawn  from  the  Old  Tes- 


ST.  ELMO.  HI 

Lament  or  the  more  modern  Mishna;  and  his  j.reteni.ed  mir- 
acles are  mere  repetitions  of  the  wonders  performed  by  our 
Saviour — for  instance,  the  basket  of  dates,  the  roasted  lamb, 
the  loaf  of  barley  bread,  in  the  siege  of  Medina.  Even  the 
Moslem  Jehennam  is  a  palpable  imitation  of  the  Hebrew 
Gehenna.  Beside,  sir,  you  know  that  Sabeanism  reigned  in 
Arabia  just  before  the  advent  of  Mohammed,  and  if  you 
refuse  to  believe  that  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  was  signified 
by  this  one  shining  here  on  the  ram's  horn,  at  least  you 
must  admit  that  it  refers  to  stars  studied  by  the  shepherds 
who  watched  their  flocks  on  the  Chaldean  plains.  In  a 
cabinet  of  coins  and  medals,  belonging  to  Mr.  Murray,  1 
have  examined  one  of  silver,  representing  Astaroth,  with 
the  head  of  a  woman  adorned  with  horns  and  a  crescent, 
and  another  of  brass,  containing  an  image  of  Baal — a  human 
face  on  the  head  of  an  ox,  with  the  horns  surrounded  by  stars. 
However,  I  am  very  ignorant  of  these  things,  and  you  must 
refer  the  riddle  of  the  ring  to  some  one  more  astute  and 
learned  in  such  matters  than  your  humble  '  yokefellow '  in 
Hebrew.     '  Peace  be  with  thee.' " 

"  I  repeat '  Peace  be  with  thee,'  during  the  new  year  on 
which  we  are  both  entering,  and,  as  you  have  at  least  at- 
tempted to  read  the  riddle,  let  me  beg  that  you  will  do  me 
the  honor  to  accept  and  wear  the  ring  in  memory  of  our 
friendship  and  our  student  life." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  would  have  placed  the  ring  on  her 
finger,  but  she  resisted. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Leigh,  I  appreciate  the  honor,  but  in- 
deed you  must  excuse  me,  I  can  not  accept  the  ring." 

"  Why  not,  Miss  Edna  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  because  it  is  very  valuable  ar.  d  bea  1- 
tiful,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  deprive  you  of  it;  in  the 
second,  I  do  not  think  it  proper  to  accept  presents  from — 
any  one  but  relatives  or  dear  friends." 

"  I  thought  we  were  dear  friends  ?  Why  can  we  not  be 
suck  ?" 


112  ST.  ELMO. 

At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Murray  came  into  the  dining 
room,  and  as  she  looked  at  the  two  sitting  there  in  the  early 
sunshine,  with  the  basket  of  flowers  between  them ;  as  she 
marked  the  heightened  color  and  embarrassed  expression 
on  one  fair,  sweet  face,  and  the  eager  pleading  written  on 
the  other,  so  full  of  manly  beauty,  so  frank  and  bright  and 
genial,  a  possible  destiny  for  both  flashed  before  her;  and 
pleased  surprise  warmed  her  own  countenance  as  she  hur- 
ried forward.    -, 

"  Good  morning,  Gordon.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you. 
How  is  Clara  ?" 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you,  and  entirely  absorbed  in  prepar- 
ations for  her  party,  as  you  will  infer  from  this  note,  which 
she  charged  me  to  deliver  in  person,  and  for  which  I  here 
pray  your  most  favorable  consideration." 

As  Mrs.  Murray  glanced  over  the  note  Edna  turned  to 
leave  the  room  ;  but  Mr.  Leigh  exclaimed  : 

"  Do  not  go  just  yet,  I  wish  Mrs.  Murray  to  decide  a  mat- 
ter for  me." 

"  Well,  Gordon,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  First,  do  you  grant  my  sister's  petition  ?" 

"  Certainly,  I  will  bring  Edna  with  me  to-night,  unless 
she  prefers  staying  at  home  with  her  books.  You  know  I 
let  her  do  pretty  much  as  she  pleases." 

"  Now  then  for  my  little  quarrel !  Here  is  a  curious  old 
ring,  which  she  will  appreciate  more  highly  than  any  one 
else  whom  I  happen  to  know,  and  I  want  her  to  accept  it  as  a 
birthday  memento  from  me,  but  a  few  minutes  ago  she  re- 
fused to  wear  it.  Can  you  not  come  to  my  assistance,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Murray  ?" 

She  took  the  ring,  examined  it,  and  said,  after  a  pause  : 

"  I  think,  Gordon,  that  she  did  exactly  right ;  but  I  also 
think  that  now,  with  my  approval  and  advice,  she  need  not 
hesitate  to  wear  it  henceforth,  as  a  token  of  your  friend 
ehip.     Edna,  hold  out  your  hand,  my  dear." 

The  ring  was  slipped  ob  the  slender  finger,  and  as  she 


ST.  ELMO.  \\$ 

released  her  hand,  Mrs.  Murray  bent  down  and  kissed  her 
forehead. 

"  Seventeen  to-day  !  My  child,  I  can  scarcely  believe  it ! 
And  you — Gordon  ?     May  I  ask  how  old  you  are  ?" 

"  Twenty-five  —  I    gi'ieve  to   say!     You  need  not  tell 


The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  ringing  of  the 
breakfast  bell,  and  soon  after,  Mr.  Leigh  took  his  departure- 
Edna  felt  puzzled  and  annoyed,  and  as  she  looked  down 
at  the  ring,  she  thought  that  instead  of  "  Peace  be  with 
thee,"  the  Semitic  characters  must  surely  mean,  "  Disquiet 
seize  thee  !"  for  they  had  shivered  the  beautiful  calm  of 
her  girlish  nature,  and  thrust  into  her  mind  ideas  unknown 
until  that  day.  Going  to  her  own  room,  she  opened  her 
books,  but  ere  she  could  fix  her  wandering  thoughts  Mrs. 
Murray  entered. 

"  Edna,  I  came  to  speak  to  you  about  your  dress  for  to- 
night." 

"  Please  do  not  say  that  you  wish  me  to  go,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Murray,  for  I  dread  the  very  thought." 

"  But  I  must  tell  you  that  I  insist  upon  your  conforming 
to  the  usages  of  good  society.  Mrs.  Inge  belongs  to  one 
of  the  very  first  families  in  the  State ;  at  her  house  you  will 
meet  the  best  people,  and  you  could  not  possibly  make  your 
debut  under  more  favorable  circumstances.  Beside,  it  is 
very  unnatural  that  a  young  girl  should  not  enjoy  parties, 
and  the  society  of  gay  young  people.  You  are  very  unne- 
cessarily making  a  recluse  of  yourself,  and  I  shall  not  permit 
you  to  refuse  such  an  invitation  as  Mrs.  Inge  has  sent.  It 
would  be  rude  in  the  extreme." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Murray,  you  speak  of  my  debut,  as  if,  like 
other  girls,  I  had  nothing  else  to  do  but  fit  myself  for 
society.  These  people  care  nothing  for  me,  and  I  am  as 
little  interested  in  them.  I  have  no  desire  to  move  fot  a 
short  time  in  a  circle  from  wtich  my  work  in  life  must 
soon  separate  me." 


114  ST.  ELMO. 

"  To  what  work  do  you  allude  ?" 

"  The  support  which  I  must  make  by  teaching.  In  ii  few 
months  I  hope  to  be  able  to  earn  all  I  need,  and  then " 

"  Then  it  will  be  quite  time  enough  to  determine  what 
necessity  demands  ;  in  the  mean  while,  as  long  as  you  are 
in  my  house  you  must  allow  me  to  judge  what  is  proper 
for  you.  Clara  Inge  is  my  friend,  and  I  can  not  allow  you 
tc  be  rude  to  her.  I  have  sent  the  carriage  to  town  for 
Miss  O'Biley,  my  mantua-maker,  and  Hagar  will  make  the 
skirt  of  your  dress.  Come  into  my  room  and  let  her  take 
the  measure." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  kind  thoughtfulness,  but  indeed  I 
do  not  want  to  go.  Please  let  me  stay  at  home  !  You  can 
frame  some  polite  excuse.,  and  Mrs.  Inge  cares  not  whether 
I  go  or  stay.     I  will  write  my  regrets  and " 

"  Don't  be  childish,  Edna ;  I  care  whether  you  go  or 
stay,  and  that  fact  should  weigh  with  you  much  more  than 
Mrs.  Inge's  wishes,  for  you  are  quite  right  in  supposing 
that  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  her.  Do  not  keep 
Hagar  waiting." 

Mrs.  Murray's  brow  clouded,  and  her  lips  contracted,  as 
was  their  habit,  when  any  thing  displeased  her  ;  conse- 
quently, after  a  quick  glance,  Edna  followed  her  to  the 
room  where  Hagar  was  at  work.  It  was  the  first  time  the 
orphan  had  been  invited  to  a  large  party,  and  she  shrank 
from  meeting  people  whose  standard  of  gentility  was  con- 
fined to  high  birth  and  handsome  fortunes.  Mrs.  Inge  came 
frequently  to  Le  Bocage,  but  Edna's  acquaintance  with  her 
was  comparatively  slight,  and  in  addition  to  her  repug- 
nance to  meeting  strangers  she  dreaded  seeing  Mr.  Leigh 
again  so  soon,  for  she  felt  that  an  undefinable  barrier  had 
suddenly  risen  between  them  ;  the  frank,  fearless  freedom 
of  the  old  friendship  at  the  parsonage  table  had  vanished: 
She  began  to  wish  that  she  had  never  studied  Hebrew,  that 
she  had  never  heard  of  Basilides,  and  that  the  sheik's  ring 
was  back  among  the  ruins  of  Chilminar.    Mrs.  Murray  saw 


8T.  ELMO.  115 

her  discomposure,  but  those  to  take  no  notice  cf  ,t,  and 
superintended  her  toilet  that  night  with  almost  as  much  in- 
terest as  if  she  had  been  her  own  daughter. 

During  the  ride  she  talked  on  indifferent  subjects,  and  as 
they  went  up  to  the  dressing-room  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  that  her  protegee  manifested  no  trepidation.  They 
arrived  rather  late,  the  company  had  assembled,  and  the 
rooms  were  quite  full  as  Mrs.  Murray  entered;  but  Mrs. 
Inge  met  them  at  the  threshold,  and  Mr.  Leigh,  who  seemed 
on  the  watch,  came  forward  at  the  same  instant,  and  offered 
Edna  his  arm. 

"  Ah  Mrs.  Murray  !  I  had  almost  abandoned  the  hope 
of  seeing  you.  Miss  Edna,  the  set  is  just  forming,  and  we 
must  celebrate  our  birthday  by  having  the  first  dance  to- 
gether. Excuse  you,  indeed !  You  presume  upon  my  well- 
known  good  nature  and  generosity,  but  this  evening  I  am 
privileged  to  be  selfish." 

As  he  drew  her  into  the  middle  of  the  room  she  noticed 
that  he  wore  the  flowers  she  had  given  him  in  the  morning, 
and  this,  in  conjunction  with  the  curious  scrutiny  to  which 
she  was  subjected,  brought  a  sudden  surge  of  color  to  her 
cheeks.  The  dance  commenced,  and  from  one  corner  of  the 
room  Mr.  Hammond  looked  eagerly  at  his  two  pupils,  con- 
trasting them  with  the  gay  groups  that  filled  the  brilliant 
apartment. 

Edna's  slender,  graceful  figure  was  robed  in  white  Swiss 
muslin,  with  a  bertha  of  rich  lace ;  and  rose-colored  ribbons 
formed  the  sash,  and  floated  from  her  shoulders.  Her  beau- 
tiful glossy  hair  was  simply  coiled  in  a  large  roll  at  the  back 
of  the  head,  and  fastened  with  an  ivory  comb.  Scrutiniz- 
ing the  face  lifted  toward  Mr.  Leigh's,  while  he  talked  to 
her,  the  pastor  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  countenance 
half  so  eloquent  and  lovely.  Turning  his  gaze  upon  her 
partner,  he  was  compelled  to  confess  that  though  Gordon 
Leigh  was  the  handsomest  man  in  the  room,  no  acute  ob- 
server could  look  at  the  two  and  fail  to  discover  that  the 


116  ST.  ELMO. 

blacksmi th's  grand-daughter  was  far  superiDr  to  the  petted 
brother  of  the  aristocratic  Mrs.  Inge.  He  was  so  much  in- 
terested in  watching  the  couple  that  he  did  not  observe 
Mrs.  Murray's  approach  until  she  sat  down  beside  him  and 
whispered :  „ 

"  Are  they  not  a  handsome  couple  ?" 

"  Gordon  and  Edna  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Indeed  they  are  !  I  think  that  child's  face  is  the  most 
attractive,  the  most  fascinating  I  ever  looked  at.  There  is 
such  a  rare  combination  of  intelligence,  holiness,  strength, 
and  serenity  in  her  countenance  ;  such  a  calm,  pure  light 
ehining  in  her  splendid  eyes  ;  such  a  tender,  loving  look 
far  down  in  their  soft  depths." 

"  Child  !     Why,  she  is  seventeen  to-day." 

"  No  matter,  Ellen,  to  me  she  will  always  seem  a  gentle, 
clinging,  questioning  child.  I  look  at  her  often,  when  she 
is  intent  on  her  studies,  and  wonder  how  long  her  pure 
heart  will  reject  the  vanities  and  baubles  that  engross  most 
women  ;  how  long  mere  abstract  study  will  continue  to 
charm  her ;  and  I  tremble  when  I  think  of  the  future,  to 
which  I  know  she  is  looking  so  eagerly.  Now,  her  emo- 
tional nature  sleeps,  her  heart  is  at  rest — slumbering  also  ; 
she  is  all  intellect  at  present — giving  her  brain  no  relaxa- 
tion. Ah  !  if  it  could  always  be  so.  But  it  will  not  ! 
There  will  come  a  time,  I  fear,  when  her  fine  mind  and 
pure,  warm  heart  will  be  arrayed  against  each  other,  will 
battle  desperately,  and  one  or  the  other  must  be  subor- 
dinated." 

"  Gordon  seems  to  admire  her  very  much,"  said  Mrs 
Murray. 

Mr.  Hammond  sighed,  and  a  shadow  crept  over  his  placid 
features,  as  he  answered  : 

"  Do  you  wonder  at  it,  Ellen  ?  Can  any  one  know  the 
child  well,  and  fail  to  admire  and  love  her  ?" 

"  If  he  could  only  forget  her  obscure  birth — if  he  could 


ST.  ELMO.  117 

only  consent  to  marry  her — what  a  splendid  match  it  would 
be  for  her !" 

"  Ellen  !  Ellen  Murray  !  I  am  surprised  at  you  !  Let 
me  beg  of  you  for  her  sake,  for  yours,  for  all  parties  con 
cerned,  not  to  raise  your  little  finger  in  this  matter  ;  not  to 
utter  one  word  to  Edna  that  might  arouse  her  suspicions  ; 
not  to  hint  to  Gordon  that  you  dream  such  an  alliance  pos- 
sible ;  for  there  is  more  at  stake  than  you  imagine " 

He  was  unable  to  conclude  the  sentence,  for  the  dance 
had  ended,  and  as  Edna  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  beloved 
countenance  of  her  teacher,  she  drew  her  fingers  from  Mr. 
Leigh's  arm,  and  hastened  to  the  pastor's  side,  taking  his 
hand  between  both  hers  : 

"  O  sir !  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  I  have  looked  around 
so  often,  hoping  to  catch  sight  of  you.  Mrs.  Murray,  I 
heard  Mrs.  Inge  asking  for  you." 

When  the  lady  walked  away,  Edna  glided  into  the  seat 
next  the  minister,  and  continued  : 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  a  change  in  some  of  my 
studies." 

"  Wait  till  to-morrow,  my  dear.  I  came  here  to-night 
only  for  a  few  moments,  to  gratify  Gordon,  and  now  I  must 
slip  away." 

"  But,  sir,  I  only  want  to  say,  that  as  you  objected  at 
the  outset  to  my  studying  Hebrew,  I  will  not  waste  any 
more  time  on  it  just  now,  but  take  it  up  again  after  a  while, 
when  I  have  plenty  of  leisure.  Don't  you  think  that  would 
be  the  best  plan  ?'•' 

"  My  child,  are  you  tired  of  Hebrew  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  on  the  contrary,  it  possesses  a  singular  fasci- 
nation for  me ;  but  I  think,  if  you  are  willing,  I  shall  dis- 
continue it  —  at  least,  for  the  present.  I  shall  take  care  to 
forget  nothing  that  I  have  already  learned." 

"  You  have  some  special  reason  for  this  change,  I  pre- 
sume ?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  and  said  frankly  : 


118  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,  do  as  you  like.     Good-night." 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  now  with  you." 

"  Why  ?  I  thought  you  appeared  to  enjoy  your  danc€ 
very  much.     Edna,  look  at  me." 

She  hesitated — then  obeyed  him,  and  he  saw  tears 
glistening  on  her  long  lashes. 

Very  quietly  the  old  man  drew  her  arm  through  his,  and 
led  her  out  on  the  dim  verandah,  where  only  an  occasional 
couple  promenaded. 

"  Something  troubles  you,  Edna.  Will  you  confide  in 
me  ?" 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  occupying  a  false  position  here, 
and  yet  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  extricate  myself  without 
displeasing  Mrs.  Murray,  whom  I  can  not  bear  to  offend— 
she  is  so  very  kind  and  generous." 

"  Explain  yourself,  my  dear." 

"  You  know  that  I  have  not  a  cent  in  the  world  except 
what  Mrs.  Murray  gives  me.  I  shall  have  to  make  my 
bread  by  my  own  work  just  as  soon  as  you  think  me  com- 
petent to  teach  ;  and  notwithstanding,  she  thinks  I  ought 
to  visit  and  associate  as  she  does  with  these  people,  who 
tolerate  me  now,  simply  because  they  know  that  while  I  am 
under  her  roof  she  will  exact  it  of  them.  To-night, 
during  the  dance,  I  heard  two  of  her  fashionable  friends 
criticising  and  sneering  at  me ;  ridiculing  her  for  '  at- 
tempting to  smuggle  that  spoiled  creature  of  unknown 
parentage  and  doubtless  low  origin  into  really  first 
circles.'  Other  things  were  said  which  I  can  not  repeat, 
that  showed  me  plainly  how  I  am  regarded  here,  and  I  will 
not  remain  in  a  position  which  subjects  me  to  such  remarks. 
Mrs.  Murray  thought  it  best  for  me  to  come ;  but  it  was  a 
mistaken  kindness.  I  thought  so  before  I  came — now  I 
have  irrefragable  proof  that  I  was  right  in  my  forebodings." 

"  Can  you  not  tell  me  all  that  was  said  ?" 

"  I  shrink  sir,  from  repeating  it,  even  to  you." 


ST.  JLMO.  ]  _9 

"  Did  Mr.  Leigh  hear  it  ?" 

"  I  hope  not." 

"My  dear  child,  I  am  very  much  pained  to  earn  that 
you  have  been  so  cruelly  wounded ;  but  do  not  let  your 
mind  dwell  upon  it ;  those  weak,  heartless,  giddy  people 
are  to  be  pitied,  are  beneath  your  notice.  Try  to  fix  your 
thoughts  on  nobler  themes,  and  waste  no  reflection  on  the 
idle  words  of  those  poor  gilded  moths  of  fashion  and  folly, 
who  are  incapable  of  realizing  their  own  degraded  and 
deplorable  condition." 

"  I  do  not  care  particularly  what  they  think  of  me,  but  I 
am  anxious  to  avoid  hearing  their  comments  upon  me,  and 
therefore?  I  am  determined  to  keep  as  much  out  of  sight  as 
possible.  I  shall  try  to  do  my  duty  in  all  things,  and 
poverty  is  no  stigma,  thank  God !  My  grandfather  was 
very  poor,  but  he  was  noble' and  honest,  and  as  courteous  as 
a  nobleman ;  and  I  honor  his  dear,  dear  memory  as  ten- 
derly as  if  he  had  been  reared  in  a  palace.  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  my  parentage,  for  my  father  was  as  honest  and 
industrious  as  he  was  poor,  and  my  mother  was  as  gentle 
and  good  as  she  was  beautiful." 

There  was  no  faltering  in  the  sweet  voice,  and  no  bitter- 
ness poisoning  it.  Mr.  Hammond  could  not  see  the  face, 
but  the  tone  indexed  all,  and  he  was  satisfied. 

"  I  am  glad,  my  dear  little  Edna,  that  you  look  at  the 
truth  so  bravely,  and  give  no  more  importance  to  this  gos- 
sip than  your  future  peace  of  mind  demands.  If  you  have 
any  difficulty  in  convincing  Mrs.  Murray  of  the  correctness 
of  your  views,  let  me  know,  and  I  will  speak  to  her  on  the 
subject.  Good  night !  May  God  watch  over  and  bless 
yout" 

When  the  orphan  reentered  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Inge  presented 
her  to  several  gentlemen  who  had  requested  an  introduc- 
tion ;  and  though  her  heart  was  heavy,  and  her  cheeks 
burned  painfully,  she  exerted  herself,  and  danced  and  talked 
constantly,  until  Mrs.  Murray  announced  herself  ready  to 
depart. 


120  s2-  ELMO. 

Joyfully  Edna  ran  tip-stairs  for  her  wrappings,,  bade 
adieu  to  her  hostess,  who  complimented  her  on  the  sensa- 
tion her  beauty  had  created ;  and  felt  relieved  and  compa- 
ratively happy  when  the  carriage-door  closed  and  she  found 
herself  alone  with  her  benefactress. 

"  Well,  Eclna,  notwithstanding  your  repugnance  to  going, 
you  acquitted  yourself  admirably,  and  seemed  to  have  a 
delightful  time." 

"  I  thank  you,  ma'am,  for  doing  all  in  your  power  to 
make  the  evening  agreeable  to  me.  I  think  your  kind  de- 
sire to  see  me  enjoy  the  party  made  me  happier  than  every 
thing  else." 

Gratefully  she  drew  Mrs.  Murray's  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
the  latter  little  dreamed  that  at  that  instant  tears  were  roll- 
ing swiftly  over  the  flushed  face,  while  the  words  of  the 
conversation  which  she  had  overheard  rang  mockingly  in 
her  ears : 

"  Mrs.  Murray  and  even  Mr.  Hammond  are  scheming  to 
make  a  match  between  her  and  Gordon  Leigh.  Studying 
Hebrew  indeed !  A  likely  story  !  She  had  better  go  back 
to  her  wash-tub  and  spinning-wheel !  Much  Hebrew  she 
will  learn  !  Her  eyes  are  set  on  Gordon's  fortune,  and  Mrs. 
Murray  is  silly  enough  to  think  he  will  step  into  the  trap. 
She  will  have  to  bait  it  with  something  better  than  Hebrew 
and  black  eyes,  or  she  will  miss  her  game.  Gordon  will 
make  a  fool  of  her,  I  dare  say,  for,  like  all  other  young 
men,  he  can  be  flattered  into  paying  her  some  little  atten- 
tion at  first.  I  am  surprised  at  Mrs.  Inge  to  countenance 
the  girl  at  all." 

Such  was  the  orphan's  initiation  into  the  charmed  circle 
of  fashionable  society  ;  such  her  welcome  to  le  beau  monde 

As  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow,  she  could  not  avoid 
exclaiming : 

"  Heaven  save  me  from  such  aristocrats  !  and  commit  me 
rather  to  the  horny  but  outstretched  hands,  the  brawny 
arms,  the  untutored  minds,  the  simple  but  kindly-throbbing 
hearts  of  proletairt !" 


CHAPTER  X. 


|HEN  Mr.  Hammond  mentioned  Edna's  determi- 
nation to  discontinue  Hebrew,  Mr.  Leigh  ex- 
pressed no  surprise,  asked  no  explanation,  but  the 
minister  noticed  that  he  bit  his  lip,  and  beat  a 
hurried  tattoo  with  the  heel  of  his  boot  on  the  stony  hearth  ; 
and  as  he  studiously  avoided  all  allusion  to  her,  he  felt  as- 
sured that  the  conversation  which  she  had  overheard  must 
have  reached  the  ears  of  her  partner  also,  and  supplied  him 
with  a  satisfactory  solution  of  her  change  of  purpose.  For 
several  weeks  Edna  saw  nothing  of  her  quondam  school- 
mate ;  and  fixing  her  thoughts  more  firmly  than  ever  on  her 
studies,  the  painful  recollection  of  the  birthday  fHe  was 
slowly  fading  from  her  mind,  when  one  morning,  as  she 
was  returning  from  the  parsonage,  Mr.  Leigh  joined  her, 
and  asked  permission  to  attend  her  home.  The  sound  of 
his  voice,  the  touch  of  his  hand,  brought  back  all  the  em- 
barrassment and  constraint,  and  called  up  the  flush  of  con- 
fusion so  often  attributed  to  other  sources  than  that  from 
which  it  really  springs. 

After  a  few  commonplace  remarks,  he  asked : 

"  When  is  Mr.  Murray  coming  home  ?" 

"  I  have  no  idea.  Even  his  mother  is  ignorant  of  hii» 
plans." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  absent  ?" 

"  Four  years  to-day." 

"  Indeed !  so  long  ?     Where  is  he  f  * 


122  ST.  ELMO. 

"  I  believe  his  last  letter  was  written  at  Edfu,  and  lie  said 
nothing  about  returning.'* 

"  What  do  you  think  of  his  singular  oharacter  ?" 

"  I  know  almost  nothing  about  him,  as  I  was  too  young 
when  I  saw  him  to  form  an  estimate  of  him." 

"  Do  you  not  correspond  ?" 

Edna  looked  up  with  unfeigned  astonishment,  and  could 
not  avoid  smiling  at  the  inquiry. 

"  Certainly  not." 

A  short  silence  followed,  and  then  Mr.  Leigh  said : 

"  Do  you  not  frequently  ride  on  horseback  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  accompany  you  to-morrow  after- 
noon ?" 

"  I  have  promised  to  make  a  visit  with  Mr.  Hammond." 

"  To-morrow  morning  then,  before  breakfast  ?" 

She  hesitated — the  blush  deepened,  and  after  a  brief 
struggl  e.she  said  hurriedly : 

"  riease  excuse  me,  Mr.  Leigh ;  I  prefer  to  ride  alone." 

He  bowed,  and  was  silent  for  a  minute,  but  she  saw  a 
smile  lurking  about  the  corners  of  his  handsome  mouth, 
threatening  to  run  riot  over  his  features. 

"By  the  by,  Miss  Edna,  I  am  coming  to-night  to  ask 
your  assistance  in  a  Chaldee  quandary.  Foi  several  days  I 
have  been  engaged  in  a  controversy  with  Mi .  Hammond  on 
the  old  battle-field  of  ethnology,  and,  in  order  to  establish 
my  position  of  diversity  of  origin,  have  been  comparing  the 
Septuagint  with  some  passages  from  the  Talmud.  I  heard 
you  say  that  there  was  a  Rabbinical  Targum  in  the  library 
at  Le  Bocage,  and  I  must  beg  you  to  examine  it  for  me,  and 
ascertain  whether  it  contains  any  comments  on  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis.  Somewhere  in  my  most  desultory 
reading  I  have  seen  it  stated  that  in  some  of  those  early 
Targums  was  the  declaration,  that  '  God  originally  created 
men  red,  white,  and  black'  Mr.  Hammond  is  charitable 
enough  to  say  that  I  must  have  smoked  an  extra  cigar,  and 


ST.  ELMO.  123 

dreamed  the  predicate  I  am  so  anxious  to  authenticate. 
Will  you  oblige  me  by  searching  for  the  passage  ?" 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Leigh,  with  great  pleasure ;  though  per- 
haps you  would  prefer  to  take  the  book  and  look  through  it 
yourself?     My  knowledge  of  Chaldee  is  very  limited." 

"  Pardon  me !  my  mental  vis  inertias  vetoes  the  bare  sug- 
gestion. I  study  by  proxy  whenever  an  opportunity  offers, 
for  laziness  is  the  only  hereditary  taint  in  the  Leigh  blood." 

"  As  I  am  very  much  interested  in  this  ethnological  ques- 
tion, I  shall  enter  into  the  search  with  great  eagerness." 

"  Thank  you.  Do  you  take  the  unity  or  diversity  side  of 
the  discussion  ?" 

Her  merry  laugh  rang  out  through  the  forest  that  border- 
ed the  road. 

"  O  Mr.  Leigh  !  what  a  ridiculous  question  !  I  do  not 
presume  to  take  any  side,  for  I  do  not  pretend  to  understand 
or  appreciate  all  the  arguments  advanced  ;  but  I  am  anxious 
to  acquaint  myself  with  the  bearings  of  the  controversy. 
The  idea  of  my  'taking  sides'  on  a  subject  which  gray- 
haired  savans  have  spent  their  laborious  lives  in  striving  to 
elucidate  seems  extremely  ludicrous." 

"  Still,  you  are  entitled  to  an  idea,  either  pro  or  con,  even 
at  the  outset." 

"  I  have  an  idea  that  neither  you  nor  I  know  any  thing 
about  the  matter ;  and  the  per  saltum  plan  of  '  taking  sides' 
will  only  add  the  prop  of  pi-ejudice  to  my  ignorance.  If, 
with  all  his  erudition,  Mr.  Hammond  still  abstains  from 
dogmatizing  on  this  subject,  I  can  well  afford  to  hold  t&f 
crude  opinions  in  abeyance.  I  must  stop  here,  Mr.  Leigh, 
at  Mrs.  Carter's,  on  an  errand  for  Mrs.  Murray.  Good 
morning,  sir  ;  I  will  hunt  the  passage  you  require." 

"  How  have  I  offended  you,  Miss  Edua  ?" 

He  took  her  hand  and  detained  her. 

"  I  am  not  offended,  Mr.  Leigh,"  and  she  drew  back. 

"  "Why  do  you  dismiss  me  in  such  a  cold  unfriendly 
way  ?" 


124:  ST.  ELMO. 

"If  I  sometimes  appear  rude,  pardon  my  unfortanate 
manner,  and  believe  that  it  results  from  no  unfriendliness." 

"  You  will  be  at  home  this  evening  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  unless  something  very  unusual  occurs." 

They  parted,  and  during  the  remainder  of  the  walk  Edna 
could  think  of  nothing  but  the  revelation  written  in  Gordon 
Leigh's  eyes ;  the  immemorial,  yet  ever  new  and  startling 
truth,  that  opened  a  new  vista  in  life,  that  told  her  she  was 
no  longer  an  isolated  child,  but  a  woman,  regnant  over  the 
generous  heart  of  one  of  the  pets  of  society. 

She  saw  that  he  intended  her  to  believe  he  loved  her,  and 
suspicious  as  gossips  had  made  her  with  reference  to  his  con- 
duct, she  could  not  suppose  he  was  guilty  of  heartless  and 
contemptible  trifling.  She  trusted  his  honor;  yet  the  dis- 
covery of  his  affection  brought  a  sensation  of  regret — of 
vague  self-reproach,  and  she  felt  that  in  future  he  would 
prove  a  source  of  endless  disquiet.  Hitherto  she  had 
enjoyed  his  society,  henceforth  she  felt  that  she  must 
shun  it. 

She  endeavored  to  banish  the  recollection  of  that  strange 
expression  in  his  generally  laughing  eyes,  and  bent  over  the 
Targuni,  hoping  to  cheat  her  thoughts  into  other  channels ; 
but  the  face  would  not  "  down  at  her  bidding,"  and  as  the 
day  drew  near  its  close  she  grew  nervous  and  restless. 

The  chandelier  had  been  lighted,  and  Mrs.  Murray  was 
standing  at  the  window  of  the  sitting-room,  watching  for 
the  return  of  a  servant  whom  she  had  sent  to  the  post-office, 
when  Edna  said : 

"  I  believe  Mr.  Leigh  is  coming  here  to  tea ;  he  told  me  so 
this  morning." 

"  Where  did  you  see  him  ?" 

"He  walked  with  me  as  far  as  Mrs.  Carter's  gate,  and 
asked  me  to  look  out  a  reference  which  he  thought  I  might 
find  in  one  of  Mr.  Murray's  books." 

Mrs.  Murray  smiled,  and  said : 

H  Do  you  intend  to  receive  him  in  that  calico  dress  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  125 

"  "W  hy  not  ?  I  am  sure  it  looks  very  nicely ;  it  is  per- 
fectly  new,  and  fits  me  well." 

:'  /Vnd  is  very  suitable  to  wear  to  the  Parsonage,  but  not 
quite  appropriate  when  Gordon  Leigh  takes  tea  here.  You 
will  oblige  me  by  changing  your  dress  and  rearranging 
your  hair,  which  is  twisted  too  loosely." 

When  she  reentered  the  room,  a  half-hour  later,  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray leaned  against  the  mantelpiece,  with  an  open  letter  iD 
her  hand  and  dreary  disappointment  printed  on  her  face. 

"  I  hope  you  have  no  unpleasant  tidings  from  Mr.  Murray 
May  I  ask  why  you  seem  so  much  depressed  ?" 

The  mother's  features  twitched  painfully  as  she  restored 
the  letter  to  its  envelope,  and  answered : 

"  My  son's  letter  is  dated  Philoe,  just  two  months  ago, 
and  he  says  he  intended  starting  next  day  to  the  interior 
of  Persia.  He  says,  too,  that  he  did  not  expect  to  remain 
away  so  long,  but  finds  that  he  will  probably  be  in  Central 
Asia  for  another  year.  The  only  comforting  thing  in  the 
letter  is  the  assurance  that  he  weighs  more,  and  is  in  better 
health,  than  when  he  left  home." 

The  rino-ino-  of  the  door-bell  announced  Mr.  Leigh's  arri- 
val,  and  as  she  led  the  way  to  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Murray 
hastily  fastened  a  drooping  spray  of  coral  berries  in  Edna's 
hair. 

Before  tea  was  ended,  other  visitors  came  in,  and  the 
orphan  found  relief  from  her  confusion  in  the  general  con- 
versation. 

While  Dr.  Rodney,  the  family  physician,  was  talking  to 
her  about  some  discoveries  of  Ehrenberg,  concerning  which 
she  was  very  curious,  Mr.  Leigh  engrossed  Mrs.  Murray's 
attention,  and  for  some  time  their  conversation  was  exceed- 
ingly earnest ;  then  the  latter  rose  and  approached  the  sofa 
where  Edna  sat,  saying  gravely : 

"  Edna,  give  me  this  seat,  1  want  to  have  a  little  chat 
with  the  doctor;  a:id,  by  the  way,  my  dear,  I  believe  Mr. 
Leigh  is  waiting  for  you  to  show  him  some  book  you  prom- 


120  ST.  ELMO. 

ised  to  find  for  him.  Go  into  the  library — there  is  a  goo  J 
fire  there." 

The  room  was  tempting  indeed  to  students,  and  as  the 
two  sat  down  before  the  glowing  grate,  and  Mr.  Leigh 
glanced  at  the  warm,  rich  curtains  sweeping  from  ceiling 
to  carpet,  the  black-walnut  bookcases  girding  the  walls  on 
all  sides,  and  the  sentinel  bronze  busts  keeping  watch  over 
the  musty  tomes  within,  he  rubbed  his  fingers  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Certainly  this  is  the  most  delightful  library  in  the 
world,  and  offers  a  premium  for  recluse  life  and  studious 
habits.  How  incomprehensible  it  is  that  Murray  should 
prefer  to  pass  his  years  roaming  over  deserts  and  wander- 
ing about  neglected,  comfortless  khans,  when  he  might 
spend  them  in  such  an  elysium  as  this  !  The  man  must  be 
demented  !     How  do  you  explain  the  mystery  ?" 

"  Chacun  a  son  goat !  I  consider  it  none  of  my  business, 
and  as  I  suppose  he  is  the  best  judge  of  what  contributes 
to  his  happiness,  I  do  not  meddle  with  the  mystery." 

"  Poor  Murray  !  his  wretched  disposition  is  a  great  curse. 
I  pity  him  most  sincerely." 

"  From  what  I  remember  of  him,  I  am  afraid  he  would 
not  thank  you  for  your  pity,  or  admit  that  he  needed  or 
merited  it.  Here  is  the  Targum,  Mr.  Leigh,  and  here  is 
the  very  passage  you  want."  « 

She  opened  an  ancient  Chaldee  ks.,  and  spreading  it  on 
the  library  table,  they  examined  it  together,  spelling  out 
the  words,  and  turning  frequently  to  a  dictionary  which 
lay  near.  Neither  knew  much  about  the  language  ;  now 
and  then  they  differed  in  the  interpretation,  and  more  than 
once  Edna  referred  to  the  rules  of  her  grammar,  to  estab- 
lish the  construction  of  the  sentences.  , 

Engrossed  in  the  translation,  she  forgot  all  her  apprehen- 
sions of  the  morning,  and  the  old  ease  of  manner  came 
back.  Her  eyes  met  his  fearlessly,  her  smile  greeted  him 
cheerily  as  in  the  early  months  of  their  acquaintance ;  anc! 


ST.  ELMO.  12  i 

while  she  bent  over  the  pages  she  was  deciphering,  his  eye* 
dwelt  on  her  beaming  countenance  with  u  fond,  tender  look, 
that  most  girls  of  her  age  would  have  found  it  hard  to  resist, 
and  pleasant  to  recall  in  after  days. 

Neither  suspected  that  an  hour  had  passed,  until  Dr, 
Rodney  peeped  into  the  room  and  called  them  back  to  the 
parlor,  to  make  up  a  game  of  whist. 

It  was  quite  late  when  Mr.  Leigh  rose  to  say  good-night ; 
and  as  he  drew  on  his  gloves  he  looked  earnestly  at  Edna, 
and  said : 

"  I  am  coming  again  in  a  day  or  two,  to  show  you  some 
plans  I  have  drawn  for  a  new  house  which  I  intend  to  build 
before  long.  Clara  differs  with  me  about  the  arrangement 
of  some  columns  and  arches,  and  I  shall  claim  you  and  Mrs. 
Murray  for  my  allies  in  this  architectural  war." 

The  orphan  was  silent,  but  the  lady  of  the  house  replied 
promptly  : 

"Yes,  come  as  often  as  you  can,  Gordon,  and  cheer  us 
up  ;  for  it  is  terribly  dull  here  without  St.  Elmo." 

"  Suppose  you  repudiate  that  incorrigible  Vandal  and 
adopt  me  in  his  place  ?     I  would  prove  a  model  son." 

"  Very  well.  I  shall  acquaint  him  with  your  proposition, 
and  threaten  an  immediate  compliance  with  it  if  he  does 
not  come  home  soon." 

Mrs.  Murray  rang  the  bell  for  the  servant  to  lock  up  the 
house,  and  said  sotto  voce : 

"What  a  noble  fellow  Gordon  is  !  If  I  had  a  daughter 
I  would  select  him  for  her  husband.  Where  are  you  going, 
Edna  ?" 

"  I  left  a  ms.  on  the  library  table,  and  as  it  is  very  rare 
and  valuable,  I  want  to  replace  it  in  the  glass  box  where  it 
belongs  before  I  go  to  sleep." 

Lighting  a  candle,  she  lifted  the  heavy  Targum,  and 
slowly  approached  the  suite  of  rooms,  which  she  was  now  in 
the  habit  of  visiting  almost  daily. 

Earlier  in  the  day  she  had  bolted  the  door,  but  left  the 


128  ST  ELMO. 

key  in  the  lock,  expecting  to  bring  the  Targum  tuck  as 
soon  as  she  had  shown  Mr.  Leigh  the  controverted  passage. 
Now,  as  she  crossed  the  rotunda,  an  unexpected  sound,  aa 
of  a  chair  sliding  on  the  marble  floor,  seemed  to  issue  from 
the  inner  room,  and  she  paused  to  listen.  Under  the  flare 
of  the  candle  the  vindictive  face  of  Siva,  and  the  hooded 
viper  twined  about  his  arm,  looked  more  hideous  than  ever, 
warning  her  not  to  approach,  yet  all  was  silent,  save  the 
tinkling  of  a  bell  far  down  in  the  park,  where  the  sheep 
clustered  under  the  cedars.  Opening  the  door,  which  was 
ajar,  she  entered,  held  the  light  high  over  her  head,  and 
peered  a  little  nervously  around  the  room ;  but  here,  too, 
all  was  quiet  as  the  grave,  and  quite  as  dreary,  and  the 
only  moving  thing  seemed  her  shadow,  that  flitted  slightly 
as  the  candle-light  flickered  over  the  cold,  gleaming  white 
tiles.  The  carpets  and  curtains  —  even  the  rich  silk  hang- 
ings of  the  arch — were  all  packed  away,  and  Edna  shivered 
as  she  looked  through  both  rooms,  satisfied  herself  that  she 
had  mistaken  the  source  of  the  sound,  and  opened  the  box 
where  the  MBS.  were  kept. 

At  sight  of  them  her  mind  reverted  to  the  theme  she 
had  been  investigating,  and  happening  to  remember  the 
importance  attached  by  ethnologists  to  the  early  Coptic 
inscriptions,  she  took  from  the  book-shelves  a  volume  con- 
taining copies  of  many  of  these  characters,  and  drawings 
of  the  triumphal  processions  carved  on  granite,  and  repre- 
senting the  captives  of  various  nations  torn  from  their 
homes  to  swell  the  pompous  retinue  of  some  barbaric 
Rhamses  or  Sesostris. 

Drifting  back  over  the  gray,  waveless,  tideless  sea  of 
centuries,  she  stood,  in  imagination,  upon  the  steps  of  the 
Serapeum  at  Memphis  ;  and  when  the  wild  chant  of  the 
priests  had  died  away  under  the  huge  propyla?um,  she  lis- 
tened to  the  sighing  of  the  tamarinds  and  cassias,  and  the 
low  babble  of  the  sacred  Nile,  as  it  rocked  the  lotus-leaves, 
under  the  glowing  purple  sky,  whence  a  full  moon  flooded 


ST.  ELMO.  129 

the  ancient  city  with  light,  and  kindled  like  a  beac  on  the 
vast  placid  face  of  the  Sphinx  —  rising  solemn  and  lonely 
and  weird  from  its  desert  lair  —  and  staring  blankly,  hope- 
lessly across  arid,  yellow  sands  at  the  dim  colossi  of  old 
Misraim. 

Following  the  sinuous  stream  of  Coptic  civilization  to  its 
inexplicable  source  in  the  date-groves  of  Meroe,  the  girl's 
thoughts  were  borne  away  to  the  Golden  Fountain  of  the 
Sun,  where  Ammon's  black  doves  fluttered  and  cooed,  over 
the  shining  altars  and  amid  the  mystic  symbols  of  the  mai°- 
velous  friezes. 

As  Edna  bent  over  the  drawings  in  the  book,  oblivious 
for  a  time  of  every  thing  else,  she  suddenly  became  aware 
of  the  presence  of  some  one  in  the  room,  for  though  perfect 
stillness  reigned,  there  was  a  consciousness  of  companion- 
ship, of  the  proximity  of  some  human  being,  and  with  a 
start  she  looked  up,  expecting  to  meet  a  pair  of  eyes  fast- 
ened upon  her.  But  no  living  thing  confronted  her  —  the 
tall,  bent  figure  of  the  Cimbri  Prophetess  gleamed  ghostly 
white  upon  the  wall,  and  the  bright  blue  augurous  eyes 
seemed  to  count  the  dripping  blood-drops  ;  and  the  un- 
broken, solemn  silence  of  night  brooded  over  all  things, 
hushing  even  the  chime  of  sheep-bells,  that  had  died  away 
among  the  elm  arches.  Knowing  that  no  superstitious 
terrors  had  ever  seized  her  heretofore,  the  young  student 
rose,  took  up  the  candle,  and  proceeded  to  search  the  two 
rooms,  but  as  unsuccessfully  as  before. 

"There  certainly  is  somebody  here,  but  I  can  not  find  out 
where." 

These  words  were  uttered  aloud,  and  the  echo  of  her 
own  voice  seemed  sepulchral ;  then  the  chill  silence  again 
fell  upon  her.  She  smiled  at  her  own  folly,  and  thought 
her  imagination  had  been  unduly  excited  by  the  pictures 
she  had  been  examining,  and  that  the  nervous  shiver  that 
crept  over  her  was  the  result  of  the  cold.  Just  then  the 
car.dle-light  flashed  over  the  black  marble  statuette,  grin- 


130  ST.  ELMO. 

ning  horribly  as  it  kept  guard  over  the  Taj  Mahal.  Edus 
walked  up  to  it,  placed  the  candle  on  the  slab  that  support 
ed  the  tomb,  and,  stooping,  scrutinized  the  lock.  A  spider 
had  ensconced  himself  in  the  golden  receptacle,  and  spun  a 
fine  web  across  the  front  of  the  temple,  and  Edna  swept 
the  airy  drapery  away,  and  tried  to  drive  the  little  weaver 
from  his  den  ;  but  he  shrank  further  and  further,  and  finally 
she  took  the  key  from  her  pocket,  and  put  it  far  enough 
into  the  opening  to  eject  the  intruder,  who  slung  himself 
down  one  of  the  silken  threads,  and  crawled  sullenly  out 
of  sight.  Withdrawing  the  key,  she  toyed  with  it,  and 
glanced  curiously  at  the  mausoleum.  Taking  her  handker- 
chief, she  carefully  brushed  off  the  cobwebs  that  festooned 
the  minarets,  and  murmured  that  fragment  of  Persian 
poetry  which  she  once  heard  the  absent  master  repeat  tc 
his  mother,  and  which  she  had  found,  only  a  few  days 
before,  quoted  by  an  Eastern  traveller :  "  The  spider  hath 
woven  his  web  in  the  imperial  palaces  ;  and  the  owl  hath 
sung  her  watch-song  on  the  towers  of  Afrasiab." 

"  It  is  exactly  four  years  to-night  since  Mr.  Murray  gave 
me  this  key,  but  he  charged  me  not  to  open  the  Taj  unless 
I  had  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  dead.  His  letter  states 
that  he  is  alive  and  well ;  consequently,  the  time  has  not 
come  for  me  to  unseal  the  mystery.  It  is  strange  that  he 
trusted  me  with  this  secret ;  strange  that  he,  who  doubts  all 
of  his  race,  could  trust  a  child  of  whom  he  really  knew  so 
little.  Certainly  it  must  have  been  a  singular  freak  which 
gave  this  affair  into  my  keeping,  but  at  least  I  will  not  be- 
tray the  confidence  he  reposed  in  me.  With  the  contents 
of  that  vault  I  can  have  no  concern,  and  yet  I  wish  the  key 
was  safely  back  in  his  hands ;  it  annoys  me  to  conceal  it, 
and  I  feel  all  the  while  as  if  I  were  deceiving  his  mother." 

These  words  were  uttered  half  unconsciously  as  she  fin- 
gered the  key,  and  for  a  few  seconds  she  stood  there,  think- 
ing of  the  master  of  the  house,  wondering  what  luckless 
uifluence  had  so  «arly  blackened  and  distorted  his  life,  and 


ST.  ELMO.  13} 

whether  he  would  probably  return  to  Le  Bocage  before  she 
left  it  to  go  out  and  carve  her  fortune  in  the  world's  nois^ 
quarry.  The  light  danced  over  her  countenance  and  form, 
showing  the  rich  folds  of  her  crimson  merino  dress,  with 
the  gossamer  lace  surrounding  her  white  throat  and  dim- 
pled  wrists  ;  and  it  seemed  to  linger  caressingly  on  the 
shining  mass  of  black  hair,  on  the  beautiful,  polished  fore- 
head, the  firm,  delicate,  scarlet  lips,  and  made  the  large 
eyes  look  elfish  under  their  heavy  jet  lashes. 

Again  the  girl  started  and  glanced  over  her  shoulder, 
impressed  with  the  same  tantalizing  conviction  of  a  human 
presence  ;  of  some  powerful  influence  which  baffled  analysis. 
Snatching  the  candle,  she  put  the  gold  key  in  her  pocket, 
and  turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  stopped,  for  this  time  an 
unmistakable  sound,  like  the  shivering  of  a  glass  or  the 
snapping  of  a  musical  string,  fell  on  her  strained  ears.  She 
could  trace  it  to  no  particular  spot,  and  conjectured  thai; 
perhaps  a  mouse  had  taken  up  his  abode  somewhere  in  the 
room,  and,  frightened  by  her  presence,  had  run  against 
some  of  the  numerous  glass  and  china  ornaments  on  the 
etagere,  jostling  them  until  they  jingled.  Replacing  the 
book  which  she  had  taken  from  the  shelves,  and  fastening 
the  box  that  contained  the  mss.,  she  examined  the  cabinets, 
found  them  securely  closed,  and  then  hurried  out  of  the 
room,  locked  the  door,  took  the  key,  and  went  to  her  own 
apartment  with  nerves  more  unsettled  than  she  felt  dis- 
posed to  confess. 

For  some  time  after  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow,  she 
racked  her  brain  for  an  explanation  of  the  singular  sensa- 
tion she  had  experienced,  and  at  last,  annoyed  by  her  rest- 
lessness and  silly  superstition,  she  was  just  sinking  into 
dreams  of  Ammon  and  Serapis,  when  the  fierce  barking  of 
Ali  caused  her  to  start  up  in  terror.  The  dog  seemed  al- 
most wild,  running  frantically  to  and  fro,  howling  and  whin- 
ing ;  but  finally  the  sounds  receded,  gradually  quiet  was  re- 
stored, and  Edna  fell  asleep  soon  after  the  scream  of  the 


132  ST.  ELMO. 

locomotive  and  the  rumble  of  the  cars  told  her  that  t.  e  foui 
o'clock  train  had  just  started  to  Chattanooga. 

Modern  zoologic  science  explodes  the  popular  fal  acy  that 
chameleons  assume,  and  reflect  at  will,  the  color  of  the  sub- 
stance on  which  they  rest  or  feed  ;  but,  with  a  profound 
salaam  to  savans,  it  is  respectfully  submitted  that  the 
mental  saurian — human  thought — certainly  takes  its  chang- 
ing hues,  day  by  day,  from  the  books  through  which  it 
crawls  devouringly. 

Is  there  not  ground  for  plausible  doubt  that,  if  the  work- 
bench of  Mezzofanti  had  not  stood  just  beneath  the  teacher's 
window,  whence  the  ears  of  the  young  carpenter  were  re- 
galed from  morning  till  night  with  the  rudiments  of  Latin 
and  Greek,  he  would  never  have  forsworn  planing  for 
parsing,  mastered  forty  dialects,  proved  a  walking  scarlet- 
capped  polyglot,  and  attained  the  distinction  of  an  honor- 
ary nomination  for  the  office  of  interpreter-general  at  the 
Tower  of  Babel  ? 

The  hoary  associations  and  typical  significance  of  the 
numerous  relics  that  crowded  Mr.  Murray's  rooms  seized 
upon  Edna's  fancy,  linked  her  sympathies  with  the  huge 
pantheistic  systems  of  the  Orient,  and  filled  her  mind  with 
waifs  from  the  dusky  realm  of  a  mythology  that  seemed  to 
antedate  all  the  authentic  chronological  computations  oi 
man.  To  the  East,  the  mighty  alma  mater  of  the  human 
races — of  letters,  religions,  arts,  and  politics,  her  thoughts 
wandered  in  wondering  awe  ;  and  Belzoni,  Burckhardt,  La- 
yard,  and  Champollion  were  hierophants  of  whose  teach- 
ings she  never  wearied.  As  day  by  day  she  yielded  more 
and  more  to  this  fascinating  nepenthe  influence,  and  bent 
over  the  granite  sarcophagus  in  one  corner  of  Mr.  Murray's 
museum,  where  lay  a  shrunken  mummy  shrouded  in  gilded 
byssus,  the  Avish  strengthened  to  understand  the  symbols  in 
which  subtle  Egyptian  priests  masked  their  theogony. 

While  morning  and  afternoon  hours  were  given  to  those 
branches  of  study  in  which  Mr.  Hammond  guided  her,  she 


S7\  ELMO.  13a 

generally  spent  the  evening  in  Mr.  Murray's  si; ting-room, 
and  sometimes  the  clock  in  the  rotund©  struck  midnight 
before  she  locked  up  the  mss.  and  illuminated  papyri. 

Two  nights  after  the  examination  of  the  Targum,  she  was 
seated  near  the  bookcase  looking  over  the  plates  in  that 
rare  but  very  valuable  volume,  Spence's  Polymetis,  when 
the  idea  flashed  across  her  mind  that  a  rigid  analysis  and 
comparison  of  all  the  mythologies  of  the  world  would  throw 
some  light  on  the  problem  of  ethnology,  and  in  conjunction 
with  philology  settle  the  vexed  question. 

Pushing  the  Polymetis  aside,  she  sprang  up  and  paced 
the  long  room,  and  gradually  her  eyes  kindled,  her  cheeks 
burned,  as  ambition  pointed  to  a  possible  future,  of  which, 
till  this  hour,  she  had  not  dared  to  dream  ;  and  hope,  o'er- 
leaping  all  barriers,  grasped  a  victory  that  would  make  her 
name  imperishable. 

In  her  miscellaneous  reading  she  had  stumbled  upon 
singular  correspondences  in  the  customs  and  religions  of 
nations  separated  by  surging  oceans  and  by  ages ;  nations 
wdiose  aboriginal  records  appeared  to  prove  them  distinct, 
and  certainly  furnished  no  hint  of  an  ethnological  bridge 
over  which  traditions  traveled  and  symbolisms  crept  in  satin 
sandals.  During  the  past  week  several  of  these  coincidences 
had  attracted  her  attention. 

The  Druidic  rites  and  the  festival  of  Beltein  in  Scotland 
and  Ireland,  she  found  traced  to  their  source  in  the  worship 
of  Phrygian  Baal.  The  figure  of  the  Scandinavian  Disa,  at 
ITpsal,  enveloped  in  a  net  precisely  like  that  which  sur- 
rounds some  statues  of  Isis  in  Egypt.  The  mat  or  rush  sails 
used  by  the  Peruvians  on  Lake  Titicaca,  and  their  mode  of 
handling  them,  pronounced  identical  with  that  which  is 
seen  upon  the  sepulchre  of  Ramses  III.  at  Thebes.  The 
head  ot  a  Mexican  priestess  ornamented  with  a  vail  similar 
to  that  carved  on  Eastern  sphinxes,  while  the  robes  resem 
bled  those  of  a  Jewish  high-priest.  A  very  qua'.nt  and  puz- 
zling pictorial  chart  of  the  chronology  of  the  Aztecs  con- 


134  ST.  ELMO. 

tained  an  image  of  Coxcox  in  his  ark,  surroundel  by  rushes 
similar  to  those  that  overshadowed  Moses,  and  also  a  like, 
ness  of  a  dove  distributing  tongues  to  those  born  after  the 
deluge. 

Now,  the  thought  of  carefully  gathering  up  these  vague 
mythologic  links,  and  establishing  a  chain  of  unity  that 
would  girdle  the  world,  seized  and  mastered  her,  as  if  verit- 
ably clothed  with  all  the  power  of  a  bath  hoi. 

To  firmly  grasp  the  Bible  for  a  talisman,  as  Ulysses  did 
the  sprig  of  moly,  and  to  stand  in  the  Pantheon  of  the  uni- 
verse, examining  every  shattered  idol  and  crumbling  de- 
filed altar,  where  worshipping  humanity  had  bowed  ;  to 
tear  the  vail  from  oracles  and  sybils,  and  show  the  world 
that  the  true,  good,  and  beautiful  of  all  theogonies  and  cos- 
mogonies, of  every  system  of  religion  that  had  waxed  and 
waned  since  the  gray  dawn  of  time,  could  be  traced  to 
Moses  and  to  Jesus,  seemed  to  her  a  mission  grander  far 
than  the  conquest  of  empire?,  and  infinitely  more  to  be  de- 
sired than  the  crown  and  heritage  of  Solomon. 

The  night  wore  on  as  she  planned  the  work  of  coming 
years  ;  but  she  still  walked  up  and  down  the  floor,  with 
slow  uncertain  steps,  like  one  who,  peering  at  distant  ob- 
jects, sees  nothing  close  at  hand.  Flush  and  tremor  passed 
from  her  countenance,  leaving  the  features  pale  and  fixed  ; 
for  the  first  gush  ©f  enthusiasm,  like  the  jets  of  violet  flame 
flickering  over  the  simmering  mass  in  alchemic  crucibles, 
had  vanished — the  thought  was  a  crystallized  and  conse- 
crated purpose. 

At  last,  when  the  feeble  light  admonished  her  that  she 
would  soon  be  in  darkness,  she  retreated  to  her  own  room, 
and  the  first  glimmer  of  day  struggled  in  at  her  window  as 
she  knelt  at  her  bedside  praying  : 

"  Be  pleased,  O  Lord  !  to  make  me  a  fit  instrument  for 
thy  work ;  sanctify  my  heart ;  quicken  and  enlighten  my 
mind ;  grant  me  patience  and  perseverance  and  unwavering 
faith  ;  guide  me  into  paths  that  lead  to  truth ;  enable  me  in 


ST.  ELMO.  135 

all  things  to  labor  with  an  eye  single  ,o  thy  glory,  caring 
less  for  the  applause  of  the  world  than  for  the  advancement 
of  the  cause  of  Christ.  O  my  Father  and  my  God  !  bless 
the  work  on  which  I  am  about  to  enter,  crown  it  with  suc- 
cess, accept  me  as  an  humble  tool  for  the  benefit  of  my 
race,  and  when  the  days  of  my  earthly  pilgrimage  ara 
ended,  receive  my  soul  into  that  eternal  rest  which  thoi 
hast  prepared  from  the  foundations  of  the  world,  for  tLu 
saVe  of  Jesus  Christ." 


CHAPTER   XI. 


NE  afternoon,  about  a  week  after  Mr.  Leigh's 
last  visit,  as  Edna  returned  from  the  parsonage, 
where  she  had  been  detained  beyond  the  usual 
time,  Mrs.  Murray  placed  in  her  hand  a  note 
from  Mrs.  Inge,  inviting  both  to  dine  with  her  that  day,  and 
meet  some  distinguished  friends  from  a  distant  State.  Mrs. 
Murray  had  already  completed  an  elaborate  toilet,  and  de- 
sired Edna  to  lose  no  time  in  making  the  requisite  changes 
in  her  own  dress.  The  latter  took  off  her  hat,  laid  her  books 
down  on  a  table,  and  said : 

"  Please  offer  my  excuses  to  Mrs.  Inge.  I  can  not  accept 
the  invitation,  and  hope  you  will  not  urge  me." 

"  Nonsense  !  Let  me  hear  no  more  such  childish  stuff, 
and  get  ready  at  once ;  we  shall  be  too  late,  I  am  afraid." 

The  orphan  leaned  against  the  mantel-piece  and  shook 
her  head. 

Mrs.  Murray  colored  angrily  and  drew  herself  up  haugh- 
tily. 

"  Edna  Earl,  did  you  hear  what  I  said  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  but  this  time  I  can  not  obey  you.  Allow 
me  to  give  you  my  reasons,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  forgive 
what, may  now  seem  mere  obstinacy.  On  the  night  of  the 
party  given  by  Mrs.  Inge  I  determined,  under  no  circum- 
stances, to  accept  any  future  invitations. "to  her  house,  for  I 
overheard  a  conversation  between  Mrs.  Hill  and  Mrs.  Mont- 
gomery which  I  believe  was  intended  to  reach  my  ears, 
and  consequently  wounded  and  mortified  me  very  much. 


ST.  ELMO.  137 

Iwas  ridiculed  and  denounced  as  a  'poor  uptfcart  and  Inter- 
loper,' who  was  being  smuggled  into  society  far  abo\  t  my 
position  in  life,  and  pronounced  an  avaricious  schemer,  in- 
tent on  thrusting  myself  upon  Mr.  Leigh's  notice,  and  am- 
bitious of  marrying  him  for  his  fortune.  They  sneered  at 
the  idea  that  we  should  study  Hebrew  with  Mr.  Hammond, 
and  declared  it  a  mere  trap  to  catch  Mr.  Leigh.  Now, 
Mrs.  Murray,  you  know  that  I  never  had  such  a  thought, 
and  the  bare  mention  of  a  motive  so  sordid,  contemptible, 
and  unwomanly  surprised  and  disgusted  me;  but  I  resolved 
to  study  Hebrew  by  myself,  and  to  avoid  meeting  Mr. 
Leigh  at  the  parsonage  ;  for  if  his  sister's  friends  entertain 
such  an  opinion  of  me,  I  know  not  what  other  people,  and 
even  Mrs.  Inge,  may  think.  Those  two  ladies  added  some 
other  things  equally  unpleasant  and  untrue,  and  as  I  see 
that  they  are  also  invited  to  dine  to-day,  it  would  be  very 
disagreeable  for  me  to  meet  them  in  Mr.  Leigh's  presence." 

Mrs.  Murray  frowned,  and  her  lips  curled,  as  she  clasped 
a  diamond  bracelet  on  her  arm. 

"I  have  long  since  ceased  to  be  surprised  by  any  mani 
festation  of  Mrs.  Montgomery's  insolence.  She  doubtless 
judges  your  motives  by  those  of  her  snub-nosed  and  ex- 
cruciatingly fashionable  daughter,  Maud,  who,  rumor  says, 
is  paying  most  devoted  attention  to  that  same  fortune  of 
Gordon's.  I  shall  avail  myself  of  the  first  suitable  occasion 
to  suggest  to  her  that  it  is  rather  unbecoming  in  persons 
whose  fathers  were  convicted  of  forgery,  and  hunted  out  of 
the  State,  to  lay  such  stress  on  the  mere  poverty  of  young 
aspirants  for  admission  into  society.  I  have  always  noticed 
that  people  (women  especially)  whose  lineage  is  enveloped 
in  a  certain  twilight  haze,  constitute  themselves  guardians 
of  the  inviolability  of  their  pretentious  cliques,  and  fly  at 
the  throats  of  those  Hio,  they  imagine,  desire  to  enter  their 
fashionable  set — their  '  mutual  admiration  association.' 
As  for  Mrs.  Hill,  whose  parents  were  positively  respectable, 
even   genteel,  I   expected   less  nervousness   from    her    on 


138  ST.  ELMO. 

the  subject  of  genealogy,  and  should  have  given  her  ciedit 
for  more  courtesy  and  less  malice  ;  but,  poor  thing,  nature 
denied  her  any  individuality,  and  she  serves  '  her  circler 
in  the  same  capacity  as  one  of  those  tin  reflectors  fastened 
on  locomotives.  All  that  you  heard  was  excessively  ill-bred, 
and  in  really  good  society  ill-breeding  is  more  iniquitous 
than  ill-nature ;  but,  however  annoying,  it  is  beneath  your 
notice,  and  unworthy  of  consideration.  I  would  not  gratify 
them  by  withdrawing  from  a  position  which  you  can  so 
gracefully  occupy." 

"  It  is  no  privation  to  me  to  stay  at  home ;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  prefer  it,  for  I  would  not  exchange  the  companion- 
ship of  the  books  in  this  house  for  all  the  dinners  that  ever 
were  given." 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  you  to  make  a  recluse  of  your- 
self simply  because  two  rude,  silly  gossips  disgrace  them- 
selves. You  have  time  enough  to  read  and  study,  and, still 
go  out  with  me  when  I  consider  it  advisable." 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Murray,  my  position  in  your  family, 
as  an  unknown  dependent  on  your  charity,  subjects  me 
Ko " 

"  Is  a  matter  which  does  not  concern  Mesdames  Hill  and 
Montgomery,  as  I  shall  most  unequivocally  intimate  to 
them.  I  insist  upon  the  dismissal  of  the  whole  affair  from 
your  mind.  How  much  longer  do  you  intend  to  keep  me 
waiting  ?" 

"  I  am  very  sorry  you  can  not  view  the  subject  from  my 
etandpoint,  but  hereafter  I  can  not  accompany  you  to 
dinners  and  parties.  Whenever  you  desire  me  to  see  com- 
pany in  your  own  house,  I  shall  be  glad  to  comply  with 
your  wishes  and  commands ;  but  my  self-respect  will  not 
permit  me  to  go  out  to  meet  people  who  barely  tolerate 
me  through  fear  of  offending  you.  It  is  exceedingly  painful, 
dear  Mrs.  Murray,  for  me  to  have  to  appear  disrespectful 
and  stubborn  toward  you,  but  in  this  instance  I  can  not 
comply  with  your  wishes." 


ST.  ELMO.  189 

They  looked  at  each  other  steadily,  and  M;s.  Murray's 
brow  cleared  and  her  lip  unbent. 

"  What  do  you  expect  me  to  tell  Mrs.  Inge  ?-" 

"  That  I  return  my  thanks  for  her  very  kind  remembrance, 
Dut  am  closely  occupied  in  preparing  myself  to  teach,  and 
have  no  time  for  gayeties." 

Mrs.  Murray  smiled  significantly.- 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  excuse  will  satisfy  your  friend 
Gordon  ?  He  will  fly  for  consolation  to  the  stereotyped 
smile  and  delicious  flattery  of  simpering  Miss  Maud." 

"I  care  not  where  he  flies,  provided  I  am  left  in  peace." 

"  Stop,  my  dear  child  ;  you  do  not  mean  what  you  say. 
You  know  very  well  that  you  earnestly  hope  Gordon  will 
escape  the  tender  mercies  of  silly  Maud  and  the  machina- 
tions of  her  most  amiable  mamma  ;  if  you  don't,  I  do.  Un- 
derstand that  you  are  not  to  visit  Susan  Montgomery's  sins 
on  Gordon's  head.  I  shall  come  home  early,  and  make  you 
go  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock,  to  punish  you  for  your  obstinacy. 
By  the  by,  Edna,  Hagar  tells  me  that  you  frequently  sit  up 
till  three  or  four  o'clock,  poring  over  those  heathenish  doc- 
uments in  my  son's  cabinet.  This  is  absurd,  and  will  ruin 
your  health  ;  and  beside,  I  doubt  if  what  you  learn  is  worth 
your  trouble.  You  must  not  sit  up  longer  than  ten  o'clock. 
Give  me  my  furs." 

Edna  ate  her  dinner  alone,  and  went  into  the  library  to 
practise  a  difficult  music  lesson ;  but  the  spell  of  her  new 
project  was  stronger  than  the  witchery  of  music,  and 
closing  the  piano,  she  ran  into  the  "  Egyptian  Museum,"  as 
Mrs.  Murray  termed  her  son's  sitting-room. 

The  previous  night  she  had  been  reading  an  account  of 
the  doctrines  of  Zoroaster,  in  which  there  was  an  attempt 
to  trace  all  the  chief  features  of  the  Zendavesta  to  the  Old 
Testament  and  the  Jews,  and  now  she  returned  to  the  sub 
ject  with  unflagging  interest. 

Pushing  a  cushioned  chair  close  to  the  window,  she 
wrapped  her  shawl  'around  her,  put  her  feet  on  the  round 


140  ST.  ELMO. 

of  a  neighboring  chair,  to  keep  them  from  the  icy  floor 
and  gave  herself  up  to  the  perusal  of  the  volume. 

The  sun  went  down  in  a  wintry  sky ;  the  solemn  red 
light  burning  on  the  funeral  pyre  of  day  streamed  through 
the  undraped  windows,  flushed  the  fretted  facade  of  the 
Taj  Mahal,  glowed  on  the  marble  floor,  and  warmed  and 
brightened  the  serene,  lovely  face  of  the  earnest  young  stu 
dent.  As  the  flame  faded  in  the  west,  where  two  stars 
leaped  from  the  pearly  ashes,  the  fine  print  of  Edna's  book 
grew  dim,  and  she  turned  the  page  to  catch  the  mellow,  sil- 
very radiance  of  the  full  moon,  which,  shining  low  in  the 
east,  threw  a  ghastly  lustre  on  the  awful  form  and  floating 
white  hair  of  the  Cimbrian  woman  on  the  wall.  But  be- 
tween the  orphan  and  the  light,  close  beside  her  chair,  stood 
a  tall,  dark  figure,  with  uncovered  head  and  outstretched 
hands. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  utteriug  a  cry  of  mingled  alarm 
and  delight,  for  she  knew  that  erect,  stately  form  and  regal 
head  could  belong  to  but  one  person. 

"  O  Mr.  Murray !  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  have  in- 
deed come  home  to  your  sad,  desolate  mother  ?  Oh !  for 
her  sake  I  am  so  glad  !" 

She  had  clasped  her  hands  tightly  in  the  first  instant  of 
surprise,  and  stood  looking  at  him,  with  fear  and  pleasure 
struggling  for  mastery  in  her  eloquent  countenance. 

"Edna,  have  you  no  word  of  welcome,  no  friendly  hand, 
to  oifer  a  man  who  has  been  wandering  for  four  long 
years  among  strangers  in  distant  lands  ?" 

It  Avas  not  the  harsh,  bitter  voice  whose  mocking  echoes 
had  haunted  her  ears  during  his  absence,  but  a  tone  so 
low  and  deep  and  mournful,  so  inexplicably  sweet,  that  she 
could  not  recognize  it  as  his,  and,  unable  to  utter  a  word, 
she  put  her  hand  in  his  outstretched  palm.  His  fingers 
closed  over  it  with  a  pressure  that  was  painful,  and  her  ayes 
fell  beneath  the  steady,  searching  gaze  he  fixed  on  her 
face. 


ST.  ELMO.  14j 

For  fully  a  minute  they  stood  motioLless  ;  then  ht?  took 
a  match  from  his  pocket,  lighted  a  gas  globe  that  hung  ovei 
the  Taj,  and  locked  the  door  leading  into  the  rotundo. 

"  My  mother  is  dining  out,  Hagar  informed  me.  Tell  me 
is  she  well  ?  And  have  you  made  her  happy  while  I  was 
far  away  ?" 

He  came  back,  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  carved  top  oi 
the  cushioned  chair,  and  partially  shading  his  eyes  with  his 
hand,  looked  down  into  the  girl's  face. 

"  Your  mother  is  very  well  indeed,  but  anxious  and  un- 
happy on  your  account,  and  I  think  you  will  find  her  thinner 
and  paler  than  when  you  saw  her  last." 

"  Then  you  have  not  done  your  duty,  as  I  requested  ?" 

"I  could  not  take  your  place,  sir,  and  your  last  letter  led 
her  to  believe  that  you  would  be  absent  for  another  year. 
Sbe  thinks  that  at  this  instant  you  are  in  the  heart  of  Persia. 
Last  night,  when  the  servant  came  from  the  post-office 
without  the  letter  which  she  confidently  expected,  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  she  said,  '  He  has  ceased  to  think  of 
his  home,  and  loves  the  excitement  of  travel  better  than  his 
mother's  peace  of  mind.'  Why  did  you  deceive  her  ? 
Why  did  you  rob  her  of  all  the  joy  of  anticipating  your 
speedy  return  ?" 

As  she  glanced  at  him,  she  saw  the  old  scowl  settling 
heavily  between  his  eyes,  and  the  harshness  had  crept  back 
to  the  voice  that  answered  : 

"I  did  not  deceive  her.  It  was  a  sudden  and  unexpected 
circumstance  that  determined  my  return.  Moreover,  she 
•mould  long  since  have  accustomed  herself  to  find  happiness 
from  other  sources  than  my  society ;  for  no  one  knows  bet- 
ter my  detestation  of  settling  down  in  any  fixed  habitation." 

Edna  felt  all  her  childish  repugnance  sweeping  over  her 
as  she  saw  the  swift  hardening  of  his  features,  and  she 
turned  toward  the  door. 

'*  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

**  To  send  a  messenger  to  your  mother,  acquainting  her 


142  ST.  ELMO. 


with  your  arrival.  She  would  not  forgive  me  if  1  failed  t« 
give  her  such  good  tidings  at  the  very  earliest  moment." 

"  You  will  do  no  such  thing.  I  forbid  any  message.  She 
thinks  me  in  the  midst  of  Persian  ruins,  and  can  afford  to 
wait  an  hour  longer  among  her  friends.  How  happened  it 
that  you  also  are  not  at  Mrs.  Inge's  ?" 

Either  the  suddenness  of  the  question,  or  the  intentness 
of  his  scrutiny,  or  the  painful  consciousness  of  the  true 
cause  of  her  failure  to  accept  the  invitation,  brought  back 
the  blood  which  surprise  had  driven  from  her  cheeks. 

"  I  preferred  remaining  at  home." 

"  Home  !  home  !"  he  repeated,  and  continued  vehemently: 
"  Do  you  really  expect  me  to  believe  that  a  girl  of  your 
age,  with  the  choice  of  a  dinner-party  among  the  elite,  with 
lace,  silk,  and  feathers,  champagne,  bon-mot,  and  scandal, 
flattering  speeches  and  soft  looks  from  young  gentlemen, 
biting  words  and  hard  looks  from  old  ladies,  or  the  alter- 
native of  a  dull,  lonely  evening  in  this  cold,  dreary  den  of 
mine,  shut  up  with  mummies,  mss.,  and  musty  books,  could 
deliberately  decline  the  former  and  voluntarily  select  the 
latter  ?  Such  an  anomaly  in  sociology,  such  a  lusus  n-aturce, 
might  occur  in  Bacon's  '  Bensalem,'  or  in  some  undiscov- 
ered and  unimagined  realm,  where  the  men  are  all  brave, 
honest,  and  true,  and  the  women  conscientious  and  constant ! 
But  here  !  and  now?    Ah  !  pardon  me  !    Impossible !" 

Edna  felt  as  if  Momus'  suggestion  to  Vulcan,  of  a  win- 
dow in  the  human  breast,  whereby  one's  thoughts  might  be 
rendered  visible,  had  been  adopted  ;  for,  under  the  empaling 
eye  bent  upon  her,  the  secret  motives  of  her  conduct  seemed 
spread  out  as  on  a  scroll,  which  he  read  at  will. 

"I  was  invited  to  Mrs.  Inge's,  yet  you  find  me  here,  be- 
cause I  preferred  a  quiet  evening  at  home  to  a  noisy  one 
elsewhere.  How  do  you  explain  the  contradiction  if  you 
disbelieve  my  words  ?" 

"  I  am  not  so  inexperienced  as  to  tax  my  ingenuity  with 
any  such  biirden.     With  the  Penelope  web  of  female  mo- 


ST.  ELMO  143 

lives  may  fates  and  furies  forbid  rash  meddling  Unless 
human  nature  here  in  America  has  undergone  a  radical 
change,  nay,  a  most  complete  transmogrification,  since  1 
abjured  it  some  years  ago;  unless  this  year  is  to  be  chron- 
icled as  an  Avatar  of  truth  and  unselfishness,  I  will  stake 
all  my  possessions  on  the  assertion  that  some  very  peculiai 
and  cogent  reason,  something  beyond  the  desire  to  prose- 
cute archaeological  researches,  has  driven  you  to  decline 
the  invitation." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  opened  the  bookcase  and  re- 
placed the  volume  which  she  had  been  reading  ;  and  he  saw 
that  she  glanced  uneasily  toward  the  door,  as  if  longing  to 
escape. 

"  Are  you  insulted  at  my  presumption  in  thus  catechising 
you  ?" 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,  to  find  that  you  have  lost  none  of  your 
cynicism  in  your  travels." 

"  Do  you  regard  travelling  as  a  panacea  for  minds  dis- 
eased ?" 

She  looked  up  and  smiled  in  his  face — a  smile  so  bright 
and  arch  and  merry,  that  even  a  stone  might  have  caught 
the  glow. 

"  Certainly  not,  Mr.  Murray,  as  you  are  the  most  incor- 
rigible traveller  I  have  ever  known." 

But  there  was  no  answering  gleam  on  his  darkening 
countenance  as  he  watched  her,  and  the  brief  silence  that 
ensued  was  annoying  to  his  companion,  who  felt  less  at 
ease  every  moment,  and  convinced  that  with  such  antag- 
onisms of  character  existing  between  them,  all  her  peace- 
ful, happy  days  at  Le  Bocage  were  drawing  to  a  close. 

"Mr.  Murray,  I  am  cold,  and  I  should  like  to  go  to  the 
fire  if  you  have  no  more  questions  to  ask,  and  will  be  so 
kind  as  to.unlock  the  door." 

He  glanced  round  the  room,  and  taking  his  grey  travel- 
ing shawl  from  a  chair  where  he  had  thrown  it,  laid  it  in  a 
heap  on  the  marble  tiles,  and  said : 


144  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Yes,  this  floor  is  icy.  Stand  on  the  shawl,  though  I 
am  well  aware  you  are  more  tired  of  me  than  of  the 
room." 

Another  long  pause  followed,  and  then  St.  Elmo  Murray 
came  close  to  his  companion,  saying  : 

"  For  four  long  years  I  have  been  making  an  experiment 
—one  of  those  experiments  which  men  frequently  attempt, 
believing  all  the  time  that  it  is  worse  than  child's  play,  and 
half  hoping  that  it  will  prove  so  and  sanction  the  wisdom 
of  their  skepticism  concerning  the  result.  When  I  left 
home  I  placed  in  your  charge  the  key  of  my  private  desk 
or  cabinet,  exacting  the  promise  that  only  upon  certain 
conditions  would  you  venture  to  open  it.  Those  contin- 
gencies have  not  arisen,  consequently  there  can  be  no  jus- 
tification for  your  having  made  yourself  acquainted  with 
the  contents  of  the  vaidt.  I  told  you  I  trusted  the  key  in 
your  hands ;  I  did  not.  I  felt  assured  you  would  betray 
the  confidence.  It  was  not  a  trust — it  was  a  temptation, 
which  I  believed  no  girl  or  woman  would  successfully  resist. 
I  am  here  to  receive  an  account  of  your  stewardship,  and 
I  tell  you  now  I  doubt  you.     Where  is  the  key  ?" 

She  took  from  her  pocket  a  small  ivory  box,  and  opening 
it  drew  out  the  little  key  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  Mr.  Murray,  it  was  a  confidence  which  I  never  solicited, 
which  has  caused  me  much  pain5i  because  it  necessitated 
concealment  from  your  mother,  but  which — God  is  my  wit- 
ness— I  have  not  betrayed.  There  is  the  key,  but  of  the 
contents  of  the  tomb  I  know  nothing.  It  was  ungenerous 
in  you  to  tempt  a  child  as  you  did  ;  to  offer  a  premium  as 
it  were  for  a  violation  of  secrecy,  by  whetting  my  curiosity  ~ 
and  then  placing  in  my  own  hands  the  means  of  gratifying 
it.  Of  course  I  have  wondered  what  the  mystery  was,  and 
why  you  selected  me  for  its  custodian ;  and  I  have  often 
wished  to  inspect  the  interior  of  that  marble  cabinet;  but 
child  though  I  was,  I  think  I  would  have  gone  to  the  stake 
sooner  than  violate  my  promise."  ' -:;X 


8T.  ELMO.  145 

As  he  took  the  key  she  observed  that  his  hand  trembled 
and  that  a  sudden  pallor  overspread  his  face. 

"Edna  Earl,  I  give  you  one  last  chance  to  be  truthful 
with  me.  If  you  yielded  to  the  temptation — and  what 
woman,  what  girl,  would  not  ? — it  would  be  no  more  than  I 
really  expected,  and  you  will  scarcely  have  disappointed 
me  ;  for  as  I  told  you,  I  put  no  faith  in  you.  But  even  if 
you  succumbed  to  a  natural  curiosity,  be  honest  and  confess 
it!" 

She  looked  up  steadily  into  his  inquisitorial  eyes,  and 
answered  : 

"  I  have  nothing  to  confess." 

He  laid  his  hand  heavily  on  her  shoulder,  and  his  tone 
was  eager,  vehement,  pleading,  tremulous  : 

"Can  you  look  me  in  the  eye — so  —  and  say  that  you 
never  put  this  key  in  yonder  lock  ?  Edna !  more  hangs  on 
your  words  than  you  dream  of.  Be  truthful !  as  if  you 
were  indeed  in  the  presence  Of  the  God  you  worship.  I 
can  forgive  you  for  prying  into  my  affairs,  but  I  can  not 
and  will  not  pardon  you  for  trifling  with  me  now." 

"  I  never  unlocked  the  vault ;  I  never  had  the  key  near  it 
but  once — about  a  week  ago — when  I  found  the  tomb  cov- 
ered with  cobwebs,  and  twisted  the  key  partially  into  the 
hole  to  drive  out  the  spider.  I  give  you  my  most  solemn 
assurance  that  I  never  unlocked  it,  never  saw  the  interior. 
Your  suspicions  are  ungenerous  and  unjust — derogatory  to 
you  and  insulting  to  me." 

"The  proof  is  at  hand,  and  if  I  have  indeed  unjustly 
suspected  you,  atonement  full  and  ample  shall  be  made." 

Clasping  one  of  her  hands  so  firmly  that  she  could  not 
extricate  it,  he  drew  her  before  the  Taj  Mahal,  and  stoop- 
ing, fitted  the  key  to  the  lock.  There  was  a  dull  click  as 
he  turned  it,  but  even  then  he  paused  and  scrutinized  her 
face.  It  was  flushed,  and  wore  a  proud,  defiant,  grieved 
look ;  his  own  was  colorless  as  the  marble  that  reflected  it, 
and  she  felt  the  heavy,  rapid  beating  of  his  blood,  and  saw 
the  cords  thickening  on  his  brow. 


146  ST.  ELMO. 

"  If  you  have  faithfully  observed  your  promise,  there  wl\ 
be  an  explosion  when  I  open  the  vault." 

Slowly  he  turned  the  key  a  second  time ;  and  as  the 
arched  door  opened  and  swung  back  on  its  golden  hinges, 
there  was  a  flash  and  sharp  report  from  a  pistol  within. 

Edna  started  involuntarily  notwithstanding  the  warning, 
and  clung  to  his  arm  an  instant,  but  he  took  no  notice  of 
her  whatever.  His  fingers  relaxed  their  iron  grasp  of  hers, 
his  hand  dropped  to  his  side,  and  leaning  forward,  he  bowed 
his  head  on  the  marble  dome  of  the  little  temple.  How 
long  he  stood  there  she  knew  not;  but  the  few  moments 
seemed  to  her  interminable  as  she  silently  watched  his 
motionless  figure. 

He  Avas  so  still,  that  finally  she  conjectured  he  might 
possibly  have  fainted  from  some  cause  unknown  to  her ; 
and  averse  though  she  was  to  addressing  him,  she  said 
timidly : 

"  Mr.  Murray,  are  you  ill  ?  Give  me  the  key  of  the  door 
and  I  will  bring  you  some  wine." 

There  was  no  answer,  and  in  alarm  she  put  her  hand  on 
his. 

Tightly  he  clasped  it,  and  drawing  her  suddenly  close  to 
his  side,  said  without  raising  his  face  : 

"  Edna  Earl,  I  have  been  ill — for  years — but  I  shall  be 
better  henceforth.  O  child!  child!  -your  calm,  pure,  guile- 
less soul  can  not  comprehend  the  blackness  and  dreariness 
of  mine.  Better  that  you  should  lie  down  now  in  death, 
with  all  the  unfolded  freshness  of  your  life  gathered  in  your 
grave,  than  live  to  know  the  world  as  I  have  proved  it. 
For  many  years  I  have  lived  without  hope  or  trust  or  faith 
in  any  thing — in  any  body.  To-night  I  stand  here  lacking 
sympathy  with  or  respect  for  my  race,  and  my  confidence 
in  human  nature  was  dead ;  but,  child,  you  have  galvanized 
the  corpse." 

Again  the  mournful  music  of  his  voice  touched  her  heart, 
and  she  felt  her  tears  rising  as  she  answered  in  a  low,  hesi> 
tating  tone  : 


ST.  ELMO.  747 

"It  was  not  death,  Mr.  Murray,  it  was  merely  syncope; 
and  this  is  a  healthful  reaction  from  disease." 

"  No,  it  will  not  last.  It  is  but  an  ignis  fatuus  that  will 
decoy  to  deeper  gloom  and  darker  morasses.  I  have  swept 
and  garnished,  and  the  seven  other  devils  will  dwell  with 
me  forever !  My  child,  I  have  tempted  you,  and  you  stood 
firm.  Forgive  my  suspicions.  Twenty  years  hence,  if  you 
are  so  luckless  as  to  live  that  long,  you  will  not  wonder 
that  I  doubted  you,  but  that  my  doubt  proved  unjust. 
This  little  vault  contains  no  skeleton,  no  state  secrets ;  only 
a  picture  and  a  few  jewels,  my  will,  and  the  history  of  a 
wrecked,  worthless,  utterly  ruined  life.  Perhaps  if  you 
continue  true,  and  make  my  mother  happy,  I  may  put  all 
in  your  hands  some  day,  when  I  die ;  and  then  you  will 
not  wonder  at  my  aimless,  hopeless,  useless  life.  One  thing 
I  wish  to  say  now,  if  at  any  time  you  need  assistance  of  any 
kind — If  you  are  troubled — come  to  me.  I  am  not  quite  so 
selfish  as  the  world  paints  me,  and  even  if  I  seem  rude  and 
harsh,  do  not  fear  to  come  to  me.  You  have  conferred  a 
favor  on  me,  and  I  do  not  like  to  remain  in  any  body's  debt. 
Make  me  repay  you  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  I  am  afraid,  sir,  we  never  can  be  friends." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  you  have  no  confidence  in  me,  and  I  would 
much  sooner  go  for  sympathy  to  one  of  your  bronze  mon- 
sters yonder  on  the  doorsteps,  than  to  you.  Neither  of  us 
likes  the  other,  and  consequently  a  sham  cordiality  would 
be  intolerably  irksome.  I  shall  not  be  here  much  longer ; 
but  while  wre  are  in  the  same  house,  I  trust  no  bitter  or 
unkind  feelings  will  be  entertained.  I  thank  you,  sir,  for 
your  polite  offer  of  assistance',  but  hope  I  shall  soon  be  able 
to  maintain  myself  without  burdening  your  mother  any 
longer." 

"  How  long  have  you  burdened  her  ?" 

"  Ever  since  that  night  when  I  was  picked  up  lame  and 
helpless,  and  placed  in  her  kind  hands." 


148  ST.  ELMO. 

"I  should  like  to  know  whether  yon  really  love  iny 
mother  ?" 

"  Next  to  the  memory  of  my  grandfather,  I  lore  her  and 
Mr.  Hammond ;  and  I  feel  that  my  gratitude  is  beyond 
expression.  There,  your  mother  is  coming!  I  hear  the 
carriage.     Shall  I  tell  her  you  are  here  ?" 

Without  raising  his  face,  he  took  the  key  of  the  dooi 
from  his  pocket,  and  held  it  toward  her.  "  No  ;  I  will  meet 
her  in  her  own  room." 

Edna  hastened  to  the  library,  and  throwing  herself  into 
a  chair,  tried  to  collect  her  thoughts  and  reflect  upon  what 
had  passed  in  the  "  Egyptian  Museum." 

Very  soon  Mrs.  Murray's  cry  of  joyful  surprise  rang 
through  the  house,  and  tears  of  sympathy  rose  to  Edna's 
eyes  as  fancy  pictured  the  happy  meeting  in  the  neighbor- 
ing room.  Notwithstanding  the  strong  antipathy  to  Mr. 
Murray  which  she  had  assiduously  cultivated.,  and  despite 
her  conviction  that  he  held  in  derision  the  religious  faith 
to  which  she  clung  so  tenaciously,  she  was  now  disquieted 
and  pained  to  discover  that  his  bronzed  face  possessed  an 
attraction — an  indescribable  fascination — which  she  had 
found  nowhere  else.  In  striving  to  analyze  the  interest 
she  was  for  the  first  time  conscious  of  feeling,  she  soothed 
herself  with  the  belief  that  it  arose  from  curiosity  concern- 
ing his  past  life,  and  sympathy  for  bis  evident  misanthropy. 
It  was  in  vain  that  she  endeavored  to  fix  her  thoughts  on 
a  book  ;  his  eyes  met  hers  on  every  page,  and  when  the  bell 
summoned  her  to  a  late  supper,  she  was  glad  to  escape 
from  her  own  confused  reflections. 

Mrs.  Murray  and  her  son  were  standing  on  the  rug 
before  the  grate,  and  as  Edna  entered,  the  former  held  out 
her  hand. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  son  ?  Come  and  congratulate  me." 
She  kissed  the  girl's  forehead,  and  continued  : 

"St.  Elmo,  has  she  not  changed  astonishingly  ?  Would 
you  have  known  her  had  you  met  her  away  from  home  ?" 

> 


ST.  ELMO.  14^ 

"  I  should  certainly  have  known  her  under  all  cir 
cumstances." 

He  did  not  look  at  her,  but  resumed  the  conversation 
with  his  mother  which  her  entrance  had  interrupted,  and 
during  supper  Edna  could  scarcely  realize  that  the  cold,  dis- 
tant man  who  took  no  more  notice  of  her,  than  of  one  of  the 
salt  cellars,  was  the  same  whom  she  had  left  leaning  over  the 
Taj.  Not  the  faintest  trace  of  emotion  lingered  on  the 
dark,  stony  features,  over  which  occasionally  flickered  the 
light  of  a  sarcastic  smile,  as  he  briefly  outlined  the  course 
of  his  wanderings ;  and  now  that  she  could,  without  being 
observed,  study  his  countenance,  she  saw  that  he  looked 
much  older,  more  worn  and  haggard  and  hopeless,  than 
when  last  at  home,  and  that  the  thick  curling  hair  that 
clung  in  glossy  rings  to  his  temples  was  turning  grey. 

When  they  rose  from  the  table,  Mrs.  Murray  took  an  ele- 
gant bouquet  from  the  mantlepiece  and  said : 

"  Edna,  I  was  requested  to  place  this  in  your  hands,  as  a 
token  of  the  regard  and  remembrance  of  your  friend  and 
admirer,  Gordon  Leigh,  who  charged  me  to  assure  you 
that  your  absence  spoiled  his  enjoyment  of  the  day.  As  he 
seemed  quite  inconsolable  because  of  your  non-attendance, 
I  promised  that  you  should  ride  with  him  to-morrow 
afternoon." 

As  Edna  glanced  up  to  receive  the  flowers,  she  met  the 
merciless  gaze  she  so  much  dreaded,  and  in  her  confusion 
let  the  bouquet  fall  on  the  carpet.  Mr.  Murray  picked  it 
up,  inhaled  the  fragrance,  rearranged  some  of  the  gerani- 
um leaves  that  had  been  crushed,  and,  smiling  bitterly  all 
the  while,  bowed,  and  put  it  securely  in  her  hand. 

"  Edna,  you  have  no  other  engagement  for  to-morrow  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  I  have  promised  to  spend  it  with  Mr. 
Hammond." 

"Then  you  must  excuse  yourself,  for  I  will  not  have 
Gordon  disappointed  again." 

Too  m'ush,  annoyed  to  answer,  Edna  left  the  room,  but 


150  ST.  ELMO 

paused  in  the  hall  and  beckoned  to  Mrs.  Muri  ay  who  in 
stantly  joined  her. 

"Of  course  you  will  not  have  prayers  to-night,  as  Mr, 
Murray  has  returned  ?" 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  want  to  have  them,  to  make  a 
public  acknowledgment  of  my  gratitude  that  my  son  has 
been  restored  to  me.  Oh  !  if  he  would  only  consent  to  be 
present !" 

"  It  is  late,  and  he  will  probably  plead  fatigue." 

"  Leave  that  with  me,  and  when  I  ring  the  bell,  come  to 
the  library." 

The  orphan  Avent  to  her  room  and  diligently  copied  an 
essay  which  she  intended  to  submit  to  Mr.  Hammond  for 
criticism  on  the  following  day  ;  and  as  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  Solonian  and  Lycurgian  codes  constituted  her 
theme,  she  soon  became  absorbed  by  Grecian  politics,  and 
was  only  reminded  of  the  events  of  the  evening, when  the 
muezzin  bell  sounded,  calling  the  household  to  prayer. 

She  laid  down  her  pen  and  hurried  to  the  library,  whither 
Mrs.  Murray  had  enticed  her  son,  who  was  standing  before 
one  of  the  bookcases,  looking  over  the  table  of  contents  of 
a  new  scientific  work.  The  servants  came  in  and  ranged 
themselves  near  the  door,  and  suddenly  Mrs.  Murray  said  : 

"  You  must  take  my  place  to-night,  Edna  ;  I  can  not  read 
aloud." 

The  orphan  looked  up  appealingly,  but  an  imperative 
gesture  silenced  her,  and  she  sat  down  before  the  table,  be- 
wildered and  frightened.  Mr.  Murray  glanced  around  the 
room,  and  with  a  look  of  wrath  and  scorn  threw  down  the 
book  and  turned  toward  the  door  ;  but  his  mother's  hands 
seized  his — 

"  My  son,  for  my  sake,  do  not  go  !  Out  of  respect  for 
me,  remain  this  first  evening  of  your  return.  For  my  sake, 
St.  Elmo  !" 

He  frowned,  shook  off  her  hands,  and  strode  to  the  door; 
then  reconsidered  the  matter,  came  back,  and  stood  at  the 


ST.  ELMO.  151 

fireplace,  leaning  his  elbow  on  the  mantel,  looking  gloomily 
at  the  coals. 

Although  painfully  embarrassed  as  she  took  her  seat  and 
prepared  to  conduct  the  services  in  his  presence,  Edna  felt 
a  great  calm  steal  over  her  spirit  when  she  opened  the 
Bible  and  read  her  favorite  chapter,  the  fourteenth  of  St. 
John. 

Her  sweet,  flexible  voice,  gradually  losing  its  tremor, 
rolled  soothingly  through  the  room ;  and  when  she  knelt 
and  repeated  the  prayer  selected  for  the  occasion — a  prayer 
of  thanks  for  the  safe  return  of  a  traveller  to  the  haven  of 
home — her  tone  was  full  of  pathos  and  an  earnestness  that 
strangely  stirred  the  proud  heart  of  the  wanderer  as  he 
stood  there,  looking  through  his  fingers  at  her  uplifted  face, 
and  listening  to  the  first  prayer  that  had  reached  his  ears 
for  nearly  nineteen  weary  years  of  sin  and  scoffing. 

When  Edna  rose  from  her  knees  he  had  left  the  room, 
and  she  heard  his  swift  steps  echoing  drearily  through  the 
rotundo. 


CHAPTER   XII. 


DO  not  wish  to  interrupt  yon.  There  is  certain 
ly  room  enough  in  this  library  for  both,  and  my 
entrance  need  not  prove  the  signal  for  your  de 
parture." 

Mr.  Murray  closed  the  door  as  he  came  in,  aDd  walking 
up  to  the  bookcases,  stood  carefully  examining  the  titles 
of  the  numerous  volumes.  It  was  a  cold,  dismal  morning, 
and  sobbing  wintry  winds  and  the  ceaseless  pattering  of  rain 
made  the  outer  world  seem  dreary  in  comparison  with  the 
genial  atmosphere  and  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  cosy,  luxuri- 
ous library,  where  choice  exotics  breathed  their  fragrance 
and  early  hyacinths  exhaled  their  rich  perfume.  In  the 
centre  of  the  morocco-covered  table  stood  a  tall  glass  bowl, 
filled  with  white  camellias,  and  from  its  scalloped  edges 
drooped  a  fringe  of  scarlet  fuchsias  ;  while  near  the  window 
was  a  china  statuette,  in  whose  daily  adornment  Edna  took 
unwearied  interest.  It  was  a  lovely  Flora,  whose  slender 
fingers  held  aloft  small  tulip-shaped  vases,  into  which  fresh 
blossoms  were  inserted  every  morning.  The  head  was  so 
arranged  as  to  contain  water,  and  tlms  preserve  the  wreath 
of  natural  flowers  which  crowned  the  goddess.  To-day 
golden  crocuses  nestled  down  on  the  streaming  hair,  and 
purple  pansies  filled  the  fairy  hands,  while  the  tiny,  rosy 
feet  sank  deep  in  the  cushion  of  fine,  green  mosses,  studded 
with  double  violets. 

Edna  had  risen  to  leave  the  room  when  the  master  of  the 


ST.  ELMO.  153 

nDuse  entered,  "but  at  Ms  request  resumed  her  sent  and  con- 
tinued reading. 

After  searching  the  shelves  unavailingly,  he  glanced  over 
his  shoulder  and  asked  : 

"Have  you  seen  my  copy  of  De  Guerin's  Centaur 
anywhere  about  the  house  ?     I  had  it  a  week  ago." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  for  causing  such  a  fruitless 
search ;  here  is  the  book.  I  picked  it  up  on  the  front  steps, 
where  you  were  reading  a  few  afternoons  since,  and  it 
opened  at  a  passage  that  attracted  my  attention." 

She  closed  the  volume  and  held  it  toward  him,  but  he 
waved  it  back. 

"Keep  it  if  it  intei*ests  you.  I  have  read  it  once,  and 
merely  wished  to  refer  to  a  particular  passage.  Can  you 
guess  what  sentence  most  frequently  recurs  to  me  ?  If  so, 
read  it  to  me." 

He  drew  a  chair  close  to  the  hearth  and  lighted  his  cigar. 

Hesitatingly  Edna  turned  the  leaves. 

"  I  am  afraid,  sir,  that  my  selection  would  displease  you." 

"  I  will  risk  it,  as,  notwithstanding  your  flattering  opinion 
to  the  contrary,  I  am  not  altogether  so  unreasonable  as  to 
take  offense  at  a  compliance  with  my  own  request." 

Still  she  shrank  from  the  task  he  imposed,  and  her  fingers 
toyed  with  the  scarlet  fuchsias;  but  after  eyeing  her  for 
a  while,  he  leaned  forward  and  pushed  the  glass  bowl  be- 
yond her  reach. 

"  Edna,  I  am  waiting." 

"Well  then,  Mr.  Murray,  I  should  think  that  these  two 
passages  would  impress  you  with  peculiar  force." 

Raising  the  book  she  read  with  much  emphasis : 

"  Thou  pursuest  after  wisdom,  O  Melampus !  which  's 
the  science  of  the  will  of  the  gods;  and  thou  roamest  from 
people  to  people,  like  a  -mortal  driven  by  the  destinies.  Tn  the 
times  when  I  kept  my  night-watches  before  the  caverns,  I 
have  sometimes  believed  that  I  was  about  to  surprise  the 
thoughts  of  the  sleeping  Cybele,  and  that  the  mother  of  the 


154  ST.  ELMO. 

gods,  betrayed  by  her  dreams,  would  let  fall  some  uf  he? 
secrets.  But  I  have  never  yet  made  out  nore  tnan  sounds 
which  faded  away  in  the  murmur  of  night,  or  words  inar- 
ticulate as  the  bubbling  of  the  rivers. 

"  Seekest  thou  to  know  the  gods,  O  Macareus !  and  from 
what  source  men,  animals,  and  the  elements  of  the  universal 
fire  have  their  origin  ?  The  aged  ocean,  the  father  *of  all 
things,  keeps  locked  within  his  own  breast  these  secrets; 
and  the  nyniphs  who  stand  around  sing  as  they  weave  their 
eternal  dance  before  him,  to  cover  any  sound  which  might 
escape  from  his  lips,  half  opened  by  slumber.  Mortals  dear 
to  the  gods  for  their  virtue  have  received  from  their  hands 
lyres  to  give  delight  to  man,  or  the  seeds  of  new  plants  to 
make  him  rich,  but  from  their  inexorable  lips — nothing  !" 

"  Mr.  Murray,  am  I  correct  in  my  conjecture  ?" 

"  Quite  correct,"  he  answered,  smiling  grimly. 

Taking  the  book  from  her  hand  he  threw  it  on  the  table, 
and  tossed  his  cigar  into  the  grate,  adding  in  a  defiant,  chal- 
lenging tone : 

"  The  mantle  of  Solomon  did  not  fall  at  Le  Cayla  on  the 
shoulders  of  Maurice  de  Guerin.  After  all,  he  was  a 
wretched  hypochondriac,  and  a  tinge  of  le  cahier  vert 
doubtless  crept  into  his  eyes." 

"  Do  you  forget,  sir,  that  he  said,  '  When  one  is  a  wan 
derer,  one  feels  that  one  fulfils  the  tvue  condition  of  human- 
ity'?  and  that  among  his  last  words  are  these,  'The 
stream  of  travel  is  full  of  delight.  Oh !  who  will  set  me 
adrift  on  this  Nile  ?' " 

"Pardon  me  if  I  remind  you,  par  parenthese,  of  the  pre 
liminary  and  courteous  JEn  garde!  which  should  be  pro 
nounced  before  a  thrust.  De  Gu6rin  felt  starved  in  Lan-. 
guedoc,  and  no  wonder!  But  had  he  penetrated  every 
nook  and  cranny  of  the  habitable  globe,  and  traversed  the 
vast  zaarahs  which  science  accords  the  universe,  he  would 
have  died  at  last  as  hungry  as  Ugolino.    I  sp^ak  advisedly. 


ST.  ELMO.  155 

ft  r  the  true  Io  gad-fly,  ennui,  has  stung  me  from  hemisphere 
to  hemisphere,  across  tempestuous  oceans,  scorching  de 
serts,  and  icy  mountain  ranges.  I  have  faced  alike  the 
bourrans  of  the  steppes  and  the  Samieli  of  Shamo,  and  the 
result  of  my  vandal  life  is  best  epitomized  in  those  grand 
but  grim  words  of  Bossuet :  '  On  trouve  aufond  de  tout  le 
vide  et  le  neant?  Nineteen  years  ago,  to  satisfy  my  hunger, 
I  set  out  to  hunt  the  daintiest  food  this  world  could  fur- 
nish, and,  like  other  fools,  have  learned  finally,  that''  life  is 
but  a  huge  mellow  golden  Osher,  that  mockingly  sifts  its 
bitter  dust  upon  our  eager  lips.  Ah !  truly,  on  trouve  au 
fond  de  tout  le  vide  et  le  neant  /" 

"  Mr.  Murray,  if  you  insist  upon  your  bitter  Osher  simile, 
why  shut  your  eyes  to  the  palpable  analogy  suggested •? 
Naturalists  assert  that  the  Solanum,  or  apple  of  Sodom, 
contains  in  its  normal  state  neither  dust  nor  ashes ;  unless 
it  is  punctured  by  an  insect,  (the  Tenthredo,)  which  con- 
verts the  whole  of  the  inside  into  dust,  leaving  nothing  but 
the  rind  entire,  without  any  loss  of  color.  Human  life  is 
as  fair  and  tempting  as  the  fruit  of  '  Ain  Jidy,'  till  stung 
and  poisoned  by  the  Tenthredo  of  sin." 

All  conceivable  suaviter  in  modo  characterized  his  mock- 
ing countenance  and  tone,  as  he  inclined  his  haughty  head 
and  asked : 

"  Will  you  favor  me  by  lifting  on  the  point  of  your  dis- 
secting-knife  this  stinging  sin  of  mine  to  which  you  refer  ? 
The  noxious  brood  swarm  so  teasingly  about  my  ears  that 
they  deprive  me  of  your  cool,  clear,  philosophic  discrimina- 
tion, Which  particular  Tenthredo  of  the  buzzing  swarm 
around  my  spoiled  apple  of  life  would  you  advise  me  to 
select  for  my  anathema  maranatha  ?" 

"  Of  your  history,  sir,  I  am  entirely  ignorant ;  and  even 
if  I  were  not,  I  should  not  presume  to  levy  a  tax  upon  it  in 
discussions  with  you  ;  for,  however  vulnerable  you  may 
possibly  be,  I  regard  an  argumentum  ad  hominem  as  the 
weakest  weapon  in  the  armory  of  dialectics — a  weapon  too 


156  ST.  ELMO. 

often  dipped  in  the  venom  of  personal  malevolence.  I 
merely  gave  expression  to  my  belief  that  miserable,  useless 
lives  are  sinful  lives ;  that  when  God  framed  the  world, 
and  called  the  human  race  into  it,  he  made  most  munificent 
provision  for  all  healthful  hunger,  whether  physical,  intel- 
lectual, or  moral ;  and  that  it  is  a  morbid,  diseased,  dis- 
torted nature  that  wears  out  its  allotted  years  on  earth  in 
bitter  carping  and  blasphemous  dissatisfaction.  The  Greeks 
recognized  this  immemorial  truth — wrapped  it  in  classic 
traditions,  and  the  myth  of  Tantalus  constituted  its  swad- 
dling-clothes. You  are  a  scholar,  Mr.  Murray ;  look  back 
and  analyze  the  derivation  and  significance  of  that  fable. 
Tantalus,  the  son  of  Pluto,  or  Wealth,  was,  according  to 
Pindar,  '  a  wanderer  from  happiness,'  and  the  name  repre- 
sents a  man  abounding  in  wealth,  but  whose  appetite  was 
so  insatiable,  even  at  the  ambrosial  feast  of  the  gods,  that 
it  ultimately  doomed  him  to  eternal,  unsatisfied  thirst  and 
hunger  in  Tartarus.  The  same  truth  crops  out  in  the  legend 
of  Midas,  who  found  himself  starving  while  his  touch  con- 
verted all  things  to  gold." 

"  Doubtless  you  have  arrived  at  the  charitable  conclusion 
that,  as  I  am  endowed  with  all  the  amiable  idiosyncrasies 
of  ancient  cynics,  I  shall  inevitably  join  the  snarling  Dives 
Club  in  Hades,  and  swell  the  howling  chorus.  Probably  I 
shall  not  disappoint  your  kind  and  eminently  Christian  ex- 
pectations ;  nor  will  I  deprive  you  of  the  gentle  satisfac- 
tion of  hissing  across  the  gulf  of  perdition,  which  will  then 
divide  us,  that  summum  bonum  of  feminine  felicity,  '  I 
told  you  so  !'  " 

The  reckless  mockery  of  his  manner  made  Edna  shiver, 
and  a  tremor  crept  across  her  beautiful  lips  as  she  an- 
swered sadly : 

"  You  torture  my  words  into  an  interpretation  of  which 
I  never  dreamed,  and  look  upon  all  things  through  the  dis- 
torting lenses  of  your  own  moodiness.  It  is  worse  than 
useless  for  us  to  attempt  an  amicable  discussion,  for  your 


ST.  ELMO.  L5t 

oitterness  never  slumbers,  your  suspicions  ai\s  3vei  on  the 
qui  vive?' 

She  rose,  but  he  quickly  laid  his  hand  on  her  shouller, 
and  pressed  her  back  into  the  chair. 

"  You  will  be  so  good  as  to  sit  still,  and  hear  me  out.  I 
have  a  right  to  all  my  charming,  rose-colored  views  of  this 
world.  I  have  gone  to  and  fro  on  the  earth,  and  life  has 
proved  a  Barmecide's  banquet  of  just  thirty-eight  years' 
duration." 

"  But,  sir,  you  lacked  the  patience  and  resolution  of  Shac- 
abac,  or,  like  him,  you  would  have  finally  grasped  the  splen- 
did realities.  The  world  must  be  conquered,  held  in  bond- 
age to  God's  law  and  man's  reason,  before  we  can  hope  to 
levy  tribute  that  will  support  our  moral  and  mental  na- 
tures ;  and  it  is  only  when  humanity  finds  itself  in  the  in- 
verted order  of  serfdom  to  the  world,  that  it  dwarfs  its 
capacities,  and  even  then  dies  of  famine." 

The  scornful  gleam  died  out  of  his  eyes,  and  mournful 
compassion  stole  in. 

"  Ah  !  how  impetuously  youth  springs  to  the  battle-field 
of  life  !  Hope  exorcises  the  gaunt  spectre  of  defeat,  and 
fancy  fingers  unwon  trophies  and  fadeless  bays  ;  but  slow- 
stepping  experience,  pallid  blood-stained,  spent  with  toil, 
lays  her  icy  hand  on  the  rosy  vail  that  floats  before  bright, 
brave,  young  eyes,  and  lo  !  the  hideous  wreck,  the  bleach- 
ing bones,  the  grinning,  ghastly  horrors  that  strew  the 
scene  of  combat  !  No  burnished  eagles  nor  streaming 
banners,  neither  spoils  of  victory  nor  peans  of  triumph, 
only  silence  and  gloom  and  death — slow-sailing  vultures — 
and  a  voiceless  desolation  !  O  child  !  if  you  would  find  a 
suitable  type  of  that  torn  and  trampled  battle-field — the 
human  heart — when  vice  and  virtue,  love  and  hate,  revenge 
and  remorse,  have  wrestled  fiercely  for  the  mastery — go 
back  to  your  Tacitus,  and  study  there  the  dismal  picture  of 
that  lonely  Teutoburgium,  where  Varus  and  his  legions  went 
down  in  the  red  burial  of  battle  !     You  talk  of  '  conquer- 


158  ST.  ELMO. 

ing  the  world — holding  it  in  bondage  !'  What  do  you 
know  of  its  perils  and  subtle  temptations — of  the  glistening 
quicksands  whose  smooth  lips  already  gape  to  engulf  you  ? 
The  very  vilest  fiend  in  hell  might  afford  to  pause  and  pity 
your  delusion  ere  turning  to  machinations  destined  to 
rouse  you  rudely  from  your  silly  dreams.  Ah  !  you  remind 
me  of  a  little  innocent,  happy  child,  playing  on  some  shin- 
ing beach,  when  the  sky  is  quiet,  the  winds  are  hushed,  and 
all  things  wrapped  in  rest,  save 

'  The  water  lapping  on  the  crag, 
And  the  long  ripple  washing  in  the  reeds  ' — 

a  fair  fearless  child,  gathering  polished  pearly  shells  with 
which  to  build  fairy  palaces,  and  suddenly,  as  she  catches 
the  mournful  murmur  of  the  immemorial  sea,  that  echoes 
in  the  flushed  and  folded  chambers  of  the  stranded  shells, 
her  face  pales  with  awe  and  wonder — the  childish  lips  part, 
the  childish  eyes  are  strained  to  discover  the  mystery ;  and 
while  the  whispering  monotone  admonishes  of  howling 
storms  and  sinking  argosies,  she  smiles  and  listens,  sees 
only  the  glowing  carmine  of  the  fluted  cells,  hears  only 
the  magic  music  of  the  sea  sibyls — and  the  sky  blackens, 
the  winds  leap  to  their  track  of  ruin,  the  great  deep  rises 
wrathful  and  murderous,  bellowing  for  victims,  and  Cyclone 
reigns  !  Thundering  waves  sweep  over  and  bear  away  the 
frail  palaces  that  decked  the  strand,  and  even  while  the 
shell  symphony  still  charms  the  ear,  the  child's  rosy  feet 
are  washed  from  their  sandy  resting-place  ;  she  is  borne  on 
howling  billows  far  out  to  a  lashed  and  maddened  main, 
strewn  with  human  drift ;  and  numb  with  horror  she  sinks 
swiftly  to  a  long  and  final  rest  among  purple  algre!  Even 
so,  Edna,  you  stop  your  ears  with  shells,  and  my  warning 
falls  like  snow-flakes  that  melt  and  vanish  on  the  bosom  oi 
a  stream." 

"No,  sir,  I  am  willing  to  be  advised.      Against  whal 
would  you  warn  me  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  159 

"The  hollowness  of  life,  the  fatuity  of  your  hopes,  the 
treachery  of  that  human  nature  of  which  you  speak  so 
tenderly  and  reverently.  So  surely  as  you  put  faith  in  the 
truth  and  nobility  of  humanity,  you  will  find  it  as  soft- 
lipped  and  vicious  as  Paolo  Orsini,  who  folded  his  wife, 
Isabella  de  Medici,  most  lovingly  in  his  arms,  and  while  he 
tenderly  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  slipped  a  cord  around 
her  neck  and  strangled  her." 

"  I  know,  sir,  that  human  nature  is  weak,  selfish,  sinful — 
that  such  treacherous  monsters  as  Ezzolino  and  the  Vis- 
conti  have  stained  the  annals  of  our  race  with  blood-blotches, 
which  the  stream  of  time  will  never  efface ;  but  the  law  of 
compensation  operates  here  as  well  as  in  other  departments, 
and  brings  to  light  a  lJldus  Achates'  and  Antoninus.  I 
believe  that  human  nature  is  a  curious  amalgam  of  mean- 
ness, malice,  and  magnanimity,  and  that  an  earnest,  loving 
Christian  charity  is  the  only  safe  touchstone,  and  furnishes 
(if  you  will  tolerate  the  simile)  the  only  elective  affinity  in 
moral  chemistry.  Because  ingots  are  not  dug  out  of  the 
earth,  is  it  not  equally  unwise  and  ungrateful  to  ridicule 
and  denounce  the  hopeful,  patient,,  tireless  laborers  who 
handle  the  alloy  and  ultimately  disintegrate  the  precious 
metal  ?  Even  if  the  world  were  bankrupt  in  morality  and 
religion — which,  thank  God,  it  is  not — one  grand  shining 
example,  like  Mr.  Hammond,  whose  unsweiwing  consisten 
cy,  noble  charity,  and  sublime  unselfishness  all  concede  and 
revere,  ought  to  leaven  the  mass  of  sneering  cynics,  and 
win  them  to  a  belief  in  their  capacity  for  rising  to  pure, 
holy,  almost  perfect  lives." 

"Spare  me  a  repetition  of  the  rhapsodies  cf  Madame 
Guyon!  I  am  not  surprised  that  such  a  novice  as  you 
prove  yourself  sTiould,  in  the  stereotyped  style  of  orthodoxy, 
swear  by  that  hoary  Tartuffe,  that  hypocritical  wolf,  Allan 
Hammond " 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Murray  !  You  must  not,  shall  not  use  such 
language  in  my  presence  concerning  one  whom  I  love  and 


160  ST-  ELMO. 

revere  above  all  other  human  beings  !  How  dare  you 
malign  that  noble  Christian,  whose  lips  daily  lift  your  name 
to  God,  praying  for  pardon  and  for  peace  ?  Oh  !  how  un- 
grateful, how  unworthy  you  are  of  his  affection  and  his 
prayers !" 

She  had  interrupted  him  with  an  imperious  wave  of  her 
hand,  and  stood  regarding  him  with  an  expression  of  indig- 
nation and  detestation. 

"I  neither  possess  nor  desire  his  affection  or  his  prayers." 

"  Sir,  you  know  that  you  do  not  deserve,  but  you  most 
certainly  have  both." 

"  How  did  you  obtain  your  information  ?" 

"  Accidentally,  when  he  was  so  surprised  and  grieved  to 
hear  that  you  had  started  on  your  long  voyage  to  Ocean- 
ica." 

"He  availed  himself  of  that  occasion  to  acquaint  you 
with  all  my  heinous  sins,  my  youthful  crimes  and  follies, 
my " 

"  No,  sir !  he  told  me  nothing,  except  that  you  no  longei 
loved  him  as  in  your  boyhood;  that  you  had  become  es- 
tranged from  him;  aud  then  he  wept,  and  added,  'I  love 
him  still ;  I  shall  pray  for  him  as  long  as  I  live.'  " 

"  Impossible  !  You  can  not  deceive  me  !  In  the  depths 
of  his  heart  he  hates  and  curses  me.  Even  a  brooding 
dove — pshaw !  Allan  Hammond  is  but  a  man,  and  it  would 
be  unnatural — utterly  impossible  that  he  could  still  think 
kindly  of  his  old  pupil.     Impossible  !" 

Mr.  Murray  rose  and  stood  before  the  grate  with  his  face 
averted,  and  his  companion  seized  the  opportunity  to  say  in 
a  low,  determined  tone  : 

"  Of  the  causes  that  induced  your  estrangement  I  am 
absolutely  ignorant.  Nothing  has  been  told  me,  and  it  is 
a  matter  about  which  I  have  conjectured  little.  But,  sir,  I 
nave  seen  Mr.  Hammond  every  day  for  four  years,  and  I 
know  what  I  say  when  I  tell  you  that  he  loves  you  as  well 
as  if  you  were  his  own  son.     Moreover,  he " 


ST.  ELMO.  Iflj 

"Hush!  you  talk  of  what  you  do  not  understand.  Be- 
lieve in  him  if  you  will,  hut  be  careful  not  to  chant  his 
praises  in  my  presence ;  not  to  parade  your  credulity  before 
my  eyes,  if  you  do  not  desire  that  I  shall  disenchant  you. 
Just  now  you  are  duped  —  so  was  I  at  your  age.  Your 
judgment  slumbers,  experience  is  in  its  swaddling-clothes; 
but  I  shall  bide  my  time,  and  the  day  will  come  ere  long 
when  these  hymns  of  hero-worship  shall  be  hushed,  and 
you  stand  clearer-eyed,  darker-hearted,  before  the  moulder- 
ing altar  of  your  god  of  clay." 

"  From  such  an  awakening  may  God  preserve  me !  Even 
if  our  religion  were  not  divine,  I  should  clasp  to  my  heart 
the  system  and  the  faith  that  make  Mr.  Hammond's  life 
serene  and  sublime.  Oh !  that  I  may  be  '  duped '  into  that 
perfection  of  character  which  makes  his  example  beckon  me 
ever  onward  and  upward.  If  you  have  no  gratitude,  no 
reverence  left,  at  least  remember  the  veneration  with  which 
I  regard  him,  and  do  not  in  my  hearing  couple  his  name 
with  sneers  and  insults." 

"  'Ephraim  is  joined  to  idols :  let  him  alone  !'  "  muttered 
the  master  of  the  house,  with  one  of  those  graceful,  mock- 
ing bows  that  always  disconcerted  the  orphan. 

She  was  nervously  twisting  Mr.  Leigh's  ring  around  her 
finger,  and  as  it  was  too  large,  it  slipped  off,  rung  on  the 
hearth,  and  rolled  to  Mr.  Murray's  feet. 

Picking  it  up  he  examined  the  emerald,  and  repeating 
the  inscription,  asked  : 

"  Do  you  understand  these  words  ?" 

"  I  only  know  that  they  have  been  translated,  '  Peace  be 
with  thee,  or  upon  thee.'  " 

"How  came  Gordon  Leigh's  ring  on  your  hand?  Has 
Tartuffe's  Hebrew  scheme  succeeded  so  soon  and  so  tho- 
roughly ?" 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Murray." 

"  Madame  ma  mere  proves  an  admirable  ally  in  this  cler- 
ical match-maker's  deft  hands,  and  Gordon's  pathway  is 


162  MT.  ELMO. 

widened  and  weeded.     Happy  Gordon !  blessed  with  each 
able  coadjutors !" 

The  cold,  sarcastic  glitter  of  his  eyes  wounded  and  hu- 
miliated the  girl,  and  her  tone  was  haughty  and  defiant— 

"  You  deal  in  innuendoes  which  I  can  not  condescend  to 
notice.  Mr.  Leigh  is  my  friend,  and  gave  me  this  ring  as 
a  birthday  present.  As  your  mother  advised  me  to  accept 
it,  and  indeed  placed  it  on  my  finger,  her  sanction  should 
certainly  exempt  me  from  your  censure." 

"  Censure  !  Pardon  me !  It  is  no  part  of  my  business  ; 
but  I  happen  to  know  something  of  gem  symbols,  and  must 
be  allowed  to  suggest  that  this  selection  is  scarcely  comine 
ilfaut  for  a  betrothal  ring." 

Edna's  face  crimsoned,  and  the  blood  tingled  to  her  fin 
gers'  ends. 

"  As  it  was  never  intended  as  such,  your  carping  criticism 
loses  its  point." 

He  stood  with  the  jewel  between  his  thumb  and  fore- 
finger, eyeing  her  fixedly,  and  on  his  handsome  features 
shone  a  smile,  treacherous  and  chilling  as  arctic  snow- 
blink. 

"Pliny's  injunction  to  lapidaries  to  spare  the  smooth 
surface  of  emeralds  seems  to  have  been  forgotten  when 
this  ring  was  fashioned.  It  was  particularly  unkind,  nay, 
cruel  to  put  it  on  the  hand  of  a  woman,  who  of  course  must 
and  will  follow  the  example  of  all  her  sex,  and  go  out  fish- 
ing most  diligently  in  the  matrimonial  sea ;  for  if  you  have 
chanced  to  look  into  gem  history,  you  will  remember  what 
befeU  the  fish  on  the  coast  of  Cyprus,  where  the  emerald 
eyes  of  the  marble  lion  glared  down  so  mercilessly  through 
the  nets,  that  the  fishermen  could  catch  nothing  until  they 
removed  the  jewels  that  constituted  the  eyes  of  the  lion. 
Do  you  recollect  the  account  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  never  read  it." 

"  Indeed  !  How  deplorably  your  education  has  been  ne- 
glected !     I  thought  your  adored  Dominie  Sampson  down 


ST.  ELMO.  163 

yonder  at  the  parsonage  was  teaching  you  a    pied  gions 
amount  ?" 

"  Give  me  my  ring,  Mr.  Murray,  and  I  will  leave  you." 
"  Shall  I  not  enlighten  you  on  the  subject  of  emeralds  ?" 
"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  believe  not,  as  what  I  have  already 
heard  does  not  tempt  me  to  prosecute  the  subject." 
"  You  think  me  insufferably  presumptuous  ?" 
"  That  is  a  word  which  I  should  scarcely  be  justified  in 
applying  to  you." 

"  You  regard  me  as  meddlesome  and  tyrannical  ?" 
She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  generally  prefer  to  receive  answers  to  my  questions. 
Pray,  what  do  you  consider  me  ?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  said  sadly  and  gently : 
"  Mr.  Murray,  is  it  generous  in  you  to  question  me  thus 
in  your  own  house  ?" 

"  I  do  not  claim  to  be  generous,  and  the  world  would  in 
dignantly  defend  me  from  such  an  imputation  !  Generous  ? 
On  the  contrary,  I  declare  explicitly  that,  unlike  some 
'  whited  sepulchres'  of  my  acquaintance,  I  do  not  intend  to 
stand  labeled  with  patent  virtues  !  Neither  do  I  parade 
meztizoth  on  my  doors.  I  humbly  beg  you  to  recollect  that 
I  am  not  a  carefully-printed  perambulating  advertisement 
of  Christianity." 

Raising  her  face,  Edna  looked  steadfastly  at  him,  and 
pain,  compassion,  shuddering  dread  filled  her  soft,  sad 
eyes., 

"  Well,  you  are  reading  me.     What  is  the  verdict  ?" 
A  long,  heavily-drawn  sigh  was  the  only  response. 
"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  reply  to  my  questions  ?" 
"  No,  Mr.  Murray.     In  lieu  of  perpetual  strife  and  biting 
words,  let  there  be  silence  between  us.     We  can  not  be 
friends,  and  it  would  be  painful  to  wage  war  here  under 
your  roof;  consequently,  I  hope  to  disarm  your  hostility  by 
assuring  you  that  in  future  I  shall  not  attempt  to  argue 
with  you,  shall  not  pick  up  the  verbal  gauntlets  you  seem 


164  ST.  ELMO. 

disposed  to  throw  down  to  me.  Surely,  sir,  if  not  getearctis, 
you  are  at  least  sufficiently  courteous  to  abstain  from  at- 
tacks which  you  have  been  notified  will  not  be  resisted  ?" 

"  You  wish  me  to  understand  that  hereafter  I,  the  owner 
and  ruler  of  this  establishment,  shall  on  no  account  presume 
to  address  any  remarks  to  Aaron  Hunt's  grandchild  ?" 

"  My  words  were  very  clear,  Mr.  Murray,  and  I  meant 
what  I  said,  and  said  what  I  meant.  But  one  thing  I  wish 
to  add  :  while  I  remain  here,  if  at  any  time  I  can  aid  or 
serve  you,  Aaron  Hunt's  grandchild  will  most  gladly  do  so. 
I  do  not  flatter  myself  that  you  will  ever  require  or  accept 
my  assistance  in  any  thing,  nevertheless  I  would  cheerfully 
render  it  should  occasion  arise." 

He  bowed,  and  returned  the  emerald,  and  Edna  turned  to 
leave  the  library. 

"  Before  you  go,  examine  this  bauble." 

He  took  from  his  vest  pocket  a  velvet  case  containing  a 
large  ring,  which  he  laid  in  the  palm  of  her  hand. 

It  was  composed  of  an  oval  jacinth,  with  a  splendid  scar- 
let fire  leaping  out  as  the  light  shone  on  it,  and  the  diamonds 
that  clustered  around  it  were  very  costly  and  brilliant. 
There  was  no  inscription,  but  upon  the  surface  of  the 
jacinth  was  engraved  a  female  head  crowned  with  oak 
leaves,  among  which  serpents  writhed  and  hissed,  and  just 
beneath  the  face  grinned  a  dog's  head.'  The  small  but  ex- 
quisitely carved  human  face  was  savage,  sullen,  sinister, 
and  fiery  rays  seemed  to  dart  from  the  relentless  eyes. 

"  Is  it  a  Medusa  ?" 

"  No." 

"  It  is  certainly  very  beautiful,  but  I  do  not  recognize  the 
face.     Interpret  for  me." 

"  It  is  Hecate,  Brimo,  Empusa — all  phases  of  the  same 
malignant  power  ;  and  it  remains  a  mere  matter  of  taste 
which  of  the  titles  you  select.     I  call  it  Hecate." 

"  I  have  never  seen  you  wear  it." 

"  Tcu  never  will." 


ST.  SLMO.  165 

"  It  is  exceedingly  beautiful." 

Edna  held  it  toward  the  grate,  flashed  the  flame  nc ,w  on 
tl:.is  side,  now  on  that,  and  handed  it  back  to  the  owner. 

"  Edna,  I  bought  this  ring  in  Naples,  intending  to  ask 
your  acceptance  of  it,  in  token  of  my  appreciation  of  youi 
care  of  that  little  gold  key,  provided  I  found  you  trust 
worthy.  After  your  pronunciamiento  uttered  a  few  minutes 
since,  I  presume  I  may  save  myself  the  trouble  of  offering 
it  to  you.  Beside,  Gordon  might  object  to  having  his 
emerald  overshadowed  by  my  matchless  jacinth.  Of  course 
your  tender  conscience  will  veto  the  thought  of  your  wearing 
it  ?" 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Murray  ;  the  ring  is,  by  far,  the  most 
elegant  I  have  ever  seen,  but  I  certainly  can  not  accept  it." 

"Itithus  contra  JBacchium  /"  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray,  with 
a  short,  mirthless  laugh  that  made  his  companion  shrink 
back  a  few  -steps. 

Holding  the  ring  at  arm's  length  above  his  head,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  To  the  '  infernal  flames,'  your  fit  type,  I  devote  you,  my 
costly  Queen  of  Samothrace !" 

Leaning  over  the  grate,  he  dropped  the  jewel  in  the 
glowing  coals. 

"  O  Mr.  Murray  !  save  it  from  destruction  !'•' 

She  seized  the  tongs  and  sprang  forward,  but  he  put  out 
his  arm  and  held  her  back. 

"  Stand  aside,  if  you  please.  Cleopatra  quaffed  liquid 
pearl  in  honor  of  Antony,  Nero  shivered  his  precious  crys- 
tal goblets,  and  Suger  pounded  up  sapphires  to  color  the 
windows  of  old  St.  Denis !  Chacun  a  son  gout !  If  I  choose 
to  indulge  myself  in  a  diamond  cremation  in  honor  of  my 
tutelary  goddess  Brimo,  who  has  the  right  to  expostulate  ? 
True,  such  costly  amusements  have  been  rare  since  the  days 
of  the  '  Oyranides'  and  the  '  Seven  Seals '  of  Hermes  Tris- 
megistus.  See  what  a  tawny,  angry  glare  leaps  from  my 
royal  jacinth !  Old  Hecate  holds  high  carnival  down  there 
in  her  congenial  flames." 


166  ST.  ELMO. 

He  stood  with  one  arm  extended  to  bar  Edna's  approach, 
the  other  rested  on  the  mantel ;  and  a  laughing,  reckless 
demon  looked  out  of  his  eyes,  which  were  fastened  on  the 
fire. 

Before  the  orphan  could  recover  from  her  sorrowful 
amazement  the  library  door  opened,  and  Henry  looked  in. 

"  Mr.  Leigh  is  in  the  parlor,  and  asked  for  Miss  Edna." 

Perplexed,  irresolute,  and  annoyed,  Edna  stood  still, 
watching  the  red  cOals  ;  and  after  a  brief  silence,  Mr.  Mur- 
ray smiled,  and  turned  to  look  at  her. 

"  Pray,  do  not  let  me  detain  you,  and  rest  assured  that  I 
understand  your  decree.  You  have  intrenched  yourself  in 
impenetrable  silence,  and  hung  out  your  banner,  inscribed 
'noli  me  tangere.''  "Withdraw  your  pickets  ;  I  shall  attempt 
neither  siege  nor  escalade.  Good  morning.  Leave  my  De 
Guerin  on  the  table ;  it  will  be  at  your  disposal  after  to- 
day." 

He  stooped  to  light  a  cigar,  and  she  walked  away  to  her 
own  room. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  her,  he  laughed  and  reiterated 
the  favorite  proverb  that  often  crossed  his  lips,  "  Bithu* 
contra  Bacchium  /  " 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


HE  dariing  scheme  of  authorship  had  seized  upon 
Edna's  mind  with  a  tenacity  that  conquered 
and  expelled  all  other  purposes,  and  though 
timidity  and  a  haunting  dread  of  the  failure  of 
the  experiment  prompted  her  to  conceal  the  matter, even 
from  her  beloved  j)astor,  she  pondered  it  in  secret,  and 
bent  every  faculty  to  its  successful  accomplishment.  Her 
veneration  for  books — the  great  eleemosynary  granaries  of 
auman  knowledge  to  which  the  world  resorts — extended 
to  those  who  created  them  ;  and  her  imagination  invested 
authors  with  peculiar  sanctity,  as  the  real  hierophants 
anointed  with  the  chrism  of  truth.  The  glittering  pinnacle 
of  consecrated  and  successful  authorship  seemed  to  her 
longing  gaze  as  sublime,  and  well-nigh  as  inaccessible,' as 
the  evei-lasting  and  untrodden  Himalayan  solitudes  appear 
to  some  curious  child  of  Thibet  or  Nej)aul;who,  gamboling 
among  pheasants  and  rhododendrons,  shades  her  dazzled 
eyes  with  her  hand,  and  looks  up  awe-stricken  and  wonder- 
ing at  the  ice-domes  and  snow-minarets  of  lonely  Deodunga, 
earth's  loftiest  and  purest  altar,  nimbused  with  the  dawn- 
ing and  the  dying  light  of  the  day.  There  were  times 
when  the  thought  of  presenting  herself  as  a  candidate  for 
admission  into  the  band  of  literary  exoterics  seemed  to 
Edna  unpardonably  presumptuous,  almost  sacrilegious,  and 
she  shrank  back,  humbled  and  abashed  ;  for  writers  were 
teachers,  interpreters,  expounders,  discoverers,  or  creators — - 


168  ST.  ELMO. 

and  what  could  she,  just  stumbling  through  the  alphabet 
of  science  and  art,  hope  to  donate  to  her  race  that  would 
ennoble  human  motives  or  elevate  aspirations  ?  Was  she, 
an  unknown  and  inexperienced  girl,  worthy  to  be  girded 
with  the  ephod  that  draped  so  royally  the  Levites  of  liter- 
ature ?  Had  God's  own  hand  set  the  Urim  and  Thummira 
of  Genius  in  her  soul  ?  Above  all,  was  she  mitred  with  the 
plate  of  pure  gold — "  Holiness  unto  the  Lord  ?" 

Solemnly  and  prayerfully  she  weighed  the  subject,  and 
having  finally  resolved  to  make  one  attempt,  she  looked 
trustingly  to  heaven  for  aid,  and  went  vigorously  to  work. 

To  write  currents  calamo  for  the  mere  pastime  of  author 
and  readers,  without  aiming  to  inculcate  some  regenerative 
principle,  or  to  photograph  some  valuable  phase  of  protean 
truth,  was  in  her  estimation  ignoble  ;  for  her  high  standard 
demanded  that  all  books  should  be  to  a  certain  extent  di- 
dactic, wandering  like  evangels  among  the  people,  and  mak- 
ing some  man,  woman,  or  child  happier,  or  wiser,  or  better — 
more  patient  or  more  hopeful — by  their  utterances.  Be- 
lieving that  every  earnest  author's  mind  should  prove  a 
mint,  where  all  valuable  ores  are  collected  from  the  rich 
veins  of  a  universe  —  are  cautiously  coined,  and  thence 
munificently  circulated — she  applied  herself  diligently  to 
the  task  of  gathering  from  various  sources  the  data  re- 
quired for  her  projected  work  :  a  vindication  of  the  unity 
of  mythologies.  The  vastness  of  the  cosmic  field  she  was 
now  compelled  to  traverse,  the  innumerable  ramifications 
of  polytheistic  and  monotheistic  creeds,  necessitated  un 
wearied  research,  as  she  rent  asunder  the  superstitious  vails 
which  various  nations  and  successive  epochs  had  woven  be- 
fore the  shining  features  of  truth.  To-day  peering  into  the 
golder  Gardens  of  the  Sun  at  Cuzco;  to-morrow  clamber 
ing  over  Thibet  glaciers,  to  find  the  mystic  lake  of  Yam- 
una ;  now  delighted  to  recognize  in  Teoyamiqui  (the  wife 
of  the  Aztec  God  of  War)  the  unmistakable  features  of 
Scandinavian  Valkyrias;  and  now  surprised  to  discover  the 


ST.  ELMO.  169 

Greek  Fates  sitting  under  the  Norse  tree  Ygdrasil,  deciding 
the  destinies  of  mortals,  and  calling  themselves  Nomas  ;  she 
spent  her  days  in  pilgrimages  to  mouldering  shrines,  and 
midnight  often  found  her  groping  in  the  classic  dust  of  ex- 
tinct systems.  Having  once  grappled  with  her  theme,  she 
wrestled  as  obstinately  as  Jacob  for  the  blessing  of  a  suc- 
cessful solution,  and  in  order  to  popularize  a  subject  bris- 
tling with  recondite  archaisms  and  philologic  problems,  she 
cast  it  in  the  mould  of  fiction.  The  information  and  plea- 
sure which  she  had  derived  from  the  perusal  of  Yaughan's 
delightful  Hours  with  the  Mystics,  suggested  the  idea 
of  adopting  a  similar  plan  for  her  own  book,  and  investing 
it  with  the  additional  interest  of  a  complicated  plot  and 
more  numerous  characters.  To  avoid  anachronisms,  she 
endeavored  to  treat  the  religions  of  the  world  in  their  chro- 
nologic sequence,  and  resorted  to  the  expedient  of  introduc- 
ing pagan  personages.  A  fair  young  priestess  of  the  tem- 
ple of  Neith,  in  the  sacred  city  of  Sais — where  people  of  all 
climes  collected  to  witness  the  festival  of  lamps — becoming 
skeptical  of  the  miraculous  attributes  of  the  statues  she  had 
been  trained  to  serve  and  worship,  and  impelled  by  an  earnest 
love  of  truth  to  seek  a  faith  that  would  satisfy  her  reason  and 
purify  her  heart,  is  induced  to  question  minutely  the  reli- 
gious tenets  of  travellers  who  visited  the  temple,  and  thus 
familiarized  herself  with  all  existing  creeds  and  hierarchies. 
The  lore  so  carefully  garnered  is  finally  analyzed,  classified, 
and  inscribed  on  papyrus.  The  delineation  of  scenes  and 
sanctuaries  in  different  latitudes,  from  Lhasa  to  Copan, 
gave  full  exercise  to  Edna's  descriptive  power,  but  imposed 
much  labor  in  the  departments  of  physical  geography  and 
architecture. 

Verily !  an  ambitious  literary  programme  for  a  girl  over 
whose  head  scarcely  eighteen  years  had  hung  their  dripping 
drab  wintry  skies,  and  pearly  summer  clouds. 

One  March  morning,  as  Edna  entered  the  breakfast-room, 
she  saw  unusual  gravity  printed  on  Mrs.  Murray's  face ;  and 


170  ST-  ELMO. 

observing  an  open  letter  on  the  table,  conjectured  the  cause 
of  her  changed  countenance.  A  moment  after  the  master 
came  in,  and  as  he  seated  himself  his  mother  said  : 

"  St  Elmo,  your  cousin  Estelle's  letter  contains  bad  news. 
Her  father  is  dead ;  the  estate  is  wretchedly  insolvent ;  and 
she  is  coming  to  reside  with  us." 

"  Then  I  am  off  for  Hammerfest  and  the  midnight  sun ! 
Who  the  deuce  invited  her  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 

"Remember  she  is  my  sister's  child;  she  has  no  other 
home,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  very  natural  that  she  should  come 
to  me,  her  nearest  relative,  for  sympathy  and  protection." 

"  Write  to  her  by  return  mail  that  you  will  gladly  allow 
her  three  thousand  a  year,  provided  she  ensconces  herself 
under  some  other  roof  than  this." 

"  Impossible  !     I  could  not  wound  her  so  deeply." 

"  You  imagine  that  she  entertains  a  most  tender  and  pro- 
found regard  for  both  of  us  ?" 

"  Certainly,  my  son ;  we  have  every  reason  to  believe 
that  she  does." 

Leaning  back  in  his  chair,  St.  Elmo  laughed  derisively. 

"  I  should  really  enjoy  stumbling  upon  something  that 
would  overtax  your  most  marvellous  and  indefinitely  ex- 
tensible credulity  !  When  Estelle  Harding  becomes  an  in- 
mate of  this  house  I  shall  pack  my  valise,  and  start  to 
Tromso !  She  approaches  like  Discord,  uninvited,  armed 
with  an  apple  or  a  dagger.  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  share 
my  fortune  with -her,  but  I'll  swear  I  would  rather  prowl 
for  a  month  through  the  plague-stricken  district  of  Con- 
stantinople than  see  her  domesticated  here  !  You  tried  the 
experiment  when  she  was  a  child,  and  we  fought  and 
scratched  as  indefatigably  as  those  two  amiable  young 
Theban  bullies,  who  are  so  often  cited  as  scarecrows  for 
quarrelsome  juveniles.  Of  course  we  shall  renew  the 
battle  at  sight." 

"  But  my  dear  son,  there  are  claims  urged  by  natural 
svffection  which  it  is  impossible  to  ignore.     Poor  Estelle 


ST.  ELMO.  171 

is  very  desolate,  and  has  a  right  to  our  sympat'r(  f  and 
love." 

"  Poor  Estelle !  HazredipeUv !  The  frailties  of  old 
Rome  survive  her  virtues  and  her  ruins  !" 

Mr.  Murray  laughed  again,  beat  a  tattoo  with  his  fork  on 
the  edge  of  his  plate,  and,  rising,  left  the  room. 

Mrs.  Murray  looked  puzzled  and  said : 

"  Edna,  do  you  know  what  he  meant  ?  He  often  amuses 
himself  by  mystifying  me,  and  I  will  not  gratify  him  by 
asking  an  explanation." 

"  Hceredipetce  were  legacy-hunters  in  Rome,  where  their 
sycophantic  devotion  to  people  of  wealth  furnished  a  con- 
stant theme  for  satire." 

Mrs.  Murray  sighed  heavily,  and  the  orphan  asked : 

"  When  do  you  expect  your  niece  ?" 

"Day  after  to-morrow.  I  have  not  seen  her  for  many 
years,  but  report  says  she  is  very  fascinating,  and  even  St. 
Elmo,  who  met  her  in  Europe,  admits  that  she  is  handsome. 
As  you  heard  him  say  just  now,  they  formerly  quarrelled 
most  outrageously  and  shamefully,  and  he  took  an  unac- 
countable aversion  to  her ;  but  I  trust  all  juvenile  reminis- 
cences will  vanish  when  they  know  each  other  better.  My 
dear,  I  have  several  engagements  for  to-day,  and  I  must 
rely  upon  you  to  superintend  the  arrangement  of  Estelle'a 
room.  She  will  occupy  the  one  next  to  yours.  See  that 
every  thing  is  in  order.  You  know  Hagar  is  sick,  and  the 
other  servants  are  careless." 

Sympathy  for  Miss  Harding's  recent  and  severe  affliction 
prepared  Edna's  heart  to  receive  her  cordially,  and  the  fact 
that  an  irreconcilable  feud  existed  between  the  stranger  and 
St.  Elmo,  induced  the  orphan  to  hope  that  she  might  find  a 
congenial  companion  in  the  expected  visitor. 

On  the  afternoon  of  her  arrival  Edna  leaned  eagerly  for- 
ward to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  countenance,  and  as  she 
threw  back  her  long  mourning-vail  and  received  her  aunt'a 
affectionate  greeting,  the  first  impression  was,    "How  ex 


172  ST.  ELMO 

ceedingly  handsome — how  commanding  she,  U  !"  Ba:.  a  few 
minutes  later,  when  Mrs.  Murray  introduced  them,  and 
the  stranger's  keen,  bright,  restless  eyes  fell  upon  the  or- 
phan's face,  the  latter  drew  back,  involuntarily  repelled, 
and  a  slight  shiver  crept  over  her,  for  an  unerring  in 
stinctive  repulsion  told  her  they  could  never  be  friends. 

Estelle  Harding  was  no  longer  young  ;  years  had  hard- 
ened the  outline  of  her  features,  and  imparted  a  cert^^j 
staidness  or  fixedness  to  her  calm  countenance,  where 
strong  feeling  or  passionate  impulse  was  never  permitted  to 
slip  the  elegant  mask  of  polished  suavity.  She  was  sur- 
prisingly like  Mrs.  Murray,  but  not  one  line  of  her  face  re- 
sembled her  cousin's.  Fixing  her  eyes  on  Edna,  with  a  cold, 
almost  stern  scrutiny  more  searching  than  courteous,  she 
said : 

"  I  was  not  aware,  Aunt  Ellen,  that  you  had  company  in 
the  house." 

"  I  have  no  company  at  present,  my  dear.  Edna  resides 
here.  Do  you  not  remember  one  of  my  letters  in  which  I 
mentioned  the  child,  who  was  injured  by  the  railroad  acci- 
dent ?" 

"  True.  I  expected  to  see  a  child,  certainly  not  a  wo- 
man." 

"  She  seems  merely  a  child  to  me.  But  come  up  to  your 
room ;  you  must  be  very  much  fatigued-  by  your  journey." 

When  they  left  the  sitting-room  Edna  sat  down  in  one 
corner  of  the  sofa,  disappointed  and  perplexed. 

"  She  does  not  like  me,  that  is  patent ;  and  I  certainly  do 
net  like  her.  She  is  handsome  and  very  graceful,  and  quite 
heartless.  There  is  no  inner  light  from  her  soul  shining  in 
her  eyes ;  nothing  tender  and  loving  and  kind  in  their 
clear  depths ;  they  are  cold,  bright  eyes,  but  not  soft,  win- 
ning, womanly  eyes.  They  might,  and  doubtless  would, 
hold  an  angry  dog  in  check,  but  never  draw  a  tired,  fretful 
child  to  lean  its  drooping  head  on  her  lap.  If  she  really 
has  any  feeling,  her  eyes  should  be  indicted  for  slander.     I 


&r.  ELMO.  173 

am  sony  I  don't  like  her,  and  I  am  a  [raid  we  never  shall 
be  nearer  each  other  than  touching  our  finger-tip"  " 

Such  was  Edna's  unsatisfactory  conclusion,  and  dismiss- 
ing the  subject,  she  picked  up  a  book,  and  read  until  the 
ladies  returned  and  seated  themselves  around  the  fire. 

To  Mrs.  Murray's  great  chagrin  and  mortification  her  son 
had  positively  declined  going  to  the  depot  to  meet  his 
cousin,  had  been  absent  since  breakfast,  and  proved  him 
self  shamefully  derelict  in  the  courtesy  demanded  of  him. 
It  was  almost  dai'k  when  the  quick  gallop  of  his  horse  an- 
nounced his  return,  and,  as  he  passed  the  window  on  his 
way  to  the  stables,  Edna  noticed  a  sudden  change  in  Es- 
telle's  countenance.  During  the  quarter  of  an  hour  that 
succeeded,  her  eyes  never  wandered  from  the  door,  though 
her  head  was  turned  to  listen  to  Mrs.  Murray's  remarks. 
Soon  after,  Mr.  Murray's  rapid  footsteps  sounded  in  the  hall, 
and  as  he  entered  she  rose  and  advanced  to  meet  him. 
He  held  out  his  hand,  shook  hers  vigorously,  and  said,  as 
he  dropped  it : 

"  Mine  ancient  enemy  declare  a  truce,  and  quiet  my  ap- 
prehensions; for  I  dreamed  last  night  that,  on  sight,  we 
flew  at  each  other's  throats,  and  renewed  the  sanguinary 
scuffles  of  our  juvenile  acquaintance.  Most  appallingly 
vivid  is  my  recollection  of  a  certain  scar  here  on  my  left 
arm,  where  you  set  your  pearly  teeth  some  years  ago." 

"My  dear  cousin,  as  I  have  had  no  provocation  since  1 
was  separated  from  you,  I  believe  I  have  grown  harmless 
and  amiable.     How  very  well  you  look,  St.  Elmo." 

"  Thank  you.  I  should  like  to  return  the  compliment,  but 
facts  forbid.  You  are  thinner  than  when  we  dined  together 
in  Paris.  Are  you  really  in  love  with  that  excruciating 
Brummell  of  a  Count  who  danced  such  indefatigable  attend- 
ance upon  you  ?" 

"  To  whom  do  you  allude  ?" 

"  That  youth  with  languishing  brown  eyes,  who  parted 
his  '  hyacir.thine  tresses    in  the  middle  of  his  head ;  whose 


174  ST.  ELMO. 

moustache  required  Ehrenberg's  strongest  gl&ises — aud  who 
absolutely  believed  that  Ristori  singled  him  out  of  her 
vast  audiences  as  the  most  appreciative  of  her  listeners ; 
who  was  eternally  humming  ;  Ernani '  and  raving  about 
'  Traviata.'  Your  memory  is  treacherous — as  your  con- 
science ?  Well,  then,  that  man,  who  I  once  told  you  re- 
minded me  of  what  Guilleragues  is  reported  to  have  said 
about  Pelisson,  '  that  he  abused  the  permission  men  have  to 
be  ugly.'  " 

"  Ah !  you  mean  poor  Victor !  He  spent  the  winter  in 
Seville.     I  had  a  letter  last  week." 

"  When  do  you  propose  to  make  him  my  cousin  ?" 

"  Not  until  I  become  an  inmate  of  a  lunatic  asylum." 

"Poor  wretch!  If  he  only  had  courage  to  sue  you  for 
breach  of  promise,  I  would,  with  pleasure,  furnish  sufficient 
testimony  to  convict  you  and  secure  him  heavy  damages ; 
for  I  will  swear  you  played  fiancee  to  perfection.  Yom 
lavish  expenditure  of  affection  seemed  to  me  altogether  un- 
called for,  considering  the  fact  that  the  fish  already  floun- 
dered at  your  feet." 

The  reminiscence  evidently  annoyed  her,  though  her  lips 
smiled,  and  Edna  saw  that,  while  his  words  were  pointed 
with  a  sarcasm  lost  upon  herself,  it  was  fully  appreciated  by 
his  cousin. 

"  St.  Elmo,  I  am  sorry  to  see  that  you  have  not  improved 
one  iota ;  that  all  your  wickedness  clings  to  you  like  Sin- 
bad's  burden." 

Standing  at  his  side,  she  put  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

As  he  looked  down  at  her,  his  lips  curled. 

"  Nevertheless,  Estelle,  I  find  a  pale  ghost  of  pity  for  you 
wandering  up  and  down  what  was  once  my  heart.  After 
the  glorious  intoxication  of  Parisian  life,  how  can  you  en- 
dure the  tedium  of  this  dullest  of  hum-drum — this  most 
moral  and  stupid  of  all  country  towns  ?  Little  gossip,  few 
flirtations,  neither  beaux  esprits  nor  bons  vivauts — what  will 
become  of  you  ?     Now,  whatever  amusement,  edification,  oi 


ST.  ELMO.  175 

warning  you  may  be  able  to  extract  from  i.i\  society,  1 
here  beg  permission  to  express  the  hope  that  you  will  appro- 
priate  unsparingly.  I  shall,  with  exemplary  hospitality, 
dedicate  myself  to  your  service — shall  try  to  make  amends 
for  voire  cher  Victor's  absence,  and  solemnly  promise  to  do 
every  thing  in  my  power  to  assist  you  in  strangling  time, 
except  parting  my  hair  in  the  middle  of  my  head,  and  mak- 
ing love  to  you.  With  these  stipulated  reservations,  com- 
mand me  ad  libitum." 

Her  face  flushed  slightly,  she  withdrew  her  hand  and  sat 
down. 

Taking  his  favorite  position  on  the  rug',  with  one  hand 
thrust  into  his  pocket  and  the  other  dallying  with  his 
watch-chain,  Mr.  Murray  continued  : 

"  Entire  honesty  on  my  part,  and  a  pardonable  and  amia- 
ble weakness  for  descanting  on  the  charms,  of  my  native  vil- 
lage, compel  me  to  assure  you,  that  notwithstanding  the 
deprivation  of  opera  and  theatre,  bed  masque,  and  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne,  I  believe  you  will  be  surprised  to  find  that 
the  tone  of  society  here  is  quite  up  to  the  lofty  standard  of 
the  '  Society  of  Arcueil,'  or  even  the  requirements  of  the 
Academy  of  Sciences.  Our  pastors  are  erudite  as  Abelard, 
and  rigid  as  Trappists  ;  our  young  ladies  are  learned  as 
that  ancient  blue-stocking  daughter  of  Pythagoras,  and  aa 
pious  as  St.  Salvia,  who  never  washed  her  face.  For  in- 
stance, girls  yet  in  their  teens  are  much  better  acquainted 
with  Hebrew  than  Miriam  Avas,when  she  sung  it  on  the 
shore  of  the  Red  Sea,  (where,  by  the  by,  Talmudic  tradi- 
tion says  Pharaoh  was  not  drowned,)  and  they  will  vehe- 
mently contend  for  the  superiority  of  the  Targum  of  Onke- 
los  over  that  on  the  Hagiographa,-  ascribed  to  one-eyed 
Joseph  of  Sora  !  You  look  incredulous,  my  fair  cousin. 
Nay,  permit  me  to  complete  the  inventory  of  the  acquire- 
ments of  your  future  companions.  They  quote  fluently 
from  the  Megilloth,  and  will  entertain  you  by  fighting  over 
again  the  battle  of  the  school  of  Hillel  versus  the  school  of 


176  ST.  ELMO. 

Shamniai !  Their  attainments  in  philology  reflect  (lib- 
credit  on  the  superficiality  of  Max  Mtlller ;  and  if  an  mci 
dental  allusion  is  made  to  archaeology,  lo  !  they  bombard 
you  with  a  broadside  of  authorities,  and  recondite  termin- 
ology that  would  absolutely  make  the  hair  of  Lepsius  and 
Champollion  stand  on  end.  I  assure  you  the  savants  of 
the  Old  World  would  catch  their  breath  with  envious 
amazement,  if  they  could  only  enjoy  the  advantage  of  the 
conversation  of  these  orthodox  and  erudite  refugees  from 
the  nursery  !  The  unfortunate  men  of  this  community  are 
kept  in  pitiable  terror  lest  they  commit  an  anachronism, 
and  if,  after  a  careful  reconnoissance  of  the  slippery  ground, 
they  tremblingly  venture  an  anecdote  of  Selwyn  or  Hood, 
or  Beaumarchais,  they  are  invariably  driven  back  in  confu- 
sion by  the  inquiry,  if  they  remember  this  or  that  bon  m,ot 
uttered  at  the  court  of  Aurungzebe  or  of  one  of  the  early 
Incas !  Ah !  would  I  were  Moliere  to  repaint  Les  Pre- 
cieuses  Ridicules  /" 

Although  his  eyes  had  never  once  wandered  from  his 
cousin's  face, toward  the  corner  where  Edna  sat  embroider- 
ing some  mats,  she  felt  the  blood  burning  in  her  cheeks,  and 
forced  herself  to  look  up.  At  that  moment,  as  he  stood  in 
the  soft  glow  of  the  firelight,  he  was  handsomer  than  she 
had  ever  seen  him  ;  and  when  he  glanced  swiftly  over  his 
shoulder  to  mark  the  effect  of  his  words,  their  eyes  met, 
and  she  smiled  involuntarily. 

"  For  shame,  St.  Elmo  !  I  will  have  you  presented  by 
the  grand-jury  of  this  county  for  wholesale  defamation  of 
the  inhabitants  thereof,"  said  his  mother,  shaking  her  finger 
at  him. 

Estelle  laughed  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  My  poor  cousin  !  how  I  pity  you,  and  the  remainder  of 
the  men  here,  surrounded  by  such  a  formidable  coterie  of 
blues." 

"Believe  me,  even  their  shadows  are  as  blue  as  those 
which  I  have  seen  thrown  upon  the  snow  of  Eyriks  Jokull, 


ST.  ELMO.  17'/ 

in  Iceland,  where  I  would  have  sworn  that  every  shade  cast 
on  the  mountain  was  a  blot  of  indigo.  Sometimes  I 
seriously  contemplate  erecting  an  observatory  and  telescope, 
in  order  to  sweep  our  sky  and  render  visible  what  I  arc 
convinced  exist  there  undiscovered — some  of  those  deej 
blue  nebulae  which  Sir  John  Herschel  found  in  the  southern 
hemisphere!  If  the  astronomical  conjecture  be  correct, 
concerning  the  possibility  of  a  galaxy  of  blue  stars,  a  huge 
cluster  hangs  in  this  neighborhood  and  furnishes  an  ex- 
planation of  the  color  of  the  women." 

"  Henceforth,  St.  Elmo,  the  sole  study  of  my  life  shall 
be  to  forget  my  alphabet.  Miss  Earl,  do  you  understand 
Hebrew  ?" 

"  Oh !  no  ;  I  have  only  begun  to  study  it." 
"  Estelle,  it  is  the  popular  and  fashionable  amusement 
here.  Young  ladies  and  young  gentlemen  form  classes  for 
mutual  aid  and  '  mutual  admiration,'  while  they  clasp 
hands  over  the  Masora.  If  Lord  Brougham,  and  other 
members  of  the  '  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Know- 
ledge,' could  only  have  been  induced  to  investigate  the 
intellectual  status  of  the  'rising  generation'  of  our  village, 
there  is  little  room  to  doubt  that,  as  they  are  not  deemed 
advocates  for  works  of  supererogation,  they  would  long 
ago  have  appreciated  the  expediency  of  disbanding  said 
society.  I  imagine  Tennyson  is  a  clairvoyant,  and  was 
looking  at  the  young  people   of  this  vicinage,  when  he 

wrote  : 

4  Knowledge  comes,  but  wisdom  lingers.' 

Not  even  egoistic  infallible  '  Brain  Town' — that  self-com- 
placent and  pretentious  '  Hub,'  can  show  a  more  ambitious 
covey  of  literary  fledgelings  !" 

"  Your  random  firing  seems  to  produce  no  confusion  on 
the  part  of  your  game,"  answered  his  cousin,  withdraw- 
ing her  gaze  from  Edna's  tranquil  features,  over  which  a 
half  smile  stil.  lingered. 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear  her  words,  but  his  eyebrow9 


178  ST.  ELMO. 

thickened,  as  he  drew  a  couple  of  letters  from  Lis  pockel 
and  looked  at  the  superscription. 

Giving  one  to  his  mother,  who  sat  looking  over  a  news- 
paper, he  crossed  the  room  and  silently  laid  the  other  or? 
Edna's  lap. 

It  was  post-marked  in  a  distant  city  and  directed  in  a 
gentleman's  large,  round  business  hand-writing.  The  girFa 
face  flushed  with  pleasure  as  she  broke  the  seal,  glanced  at 
the  signature,  and  without  pausing  for  a  perusal  hastily  put 
the  letter  into  her  pocket. 

"  Who  can  be  writing  to  you,  Edna  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray, when  she  had  finished  reading  her  own  letter. 

"  Oh  !  doubtless  some  Syrian  scribe  has  indited  a  Chaldee 
billet-doux,  which  she  can  not  spell  out  without  the  friendly 
aid  of  dictionary  and  grammar.  Permit  her  to  withdraw 
and  decipher  it.  Meantime  here  comes  Henry  to  announce 
dinner,  and  a  plate  of  soup  will  strengthen  her  for  her  task." 

Mr.  Murray  offered  his  arm  to  his  cousin,  and  during  din- 
ner he  talked  constantly,  rapidly,  brilliantly  of  men  and 
things  abroad  ;  now  hurling  a  sarcasm  at  Estelle's  head, 
now  laughing  at  his  mother's  expostulations,  and  studiously 
avoiding  any  further  notice  of  Edna,  who  was  never  so 
thoroughly  at  ease  as  when  he  seemed  to  forget  her 
presence. 

Estelle  sat  at  his  right  hand,  and  suddenly  refilling  his 
glass  with  bubbling  champagne,  he  leaned  over  and  whis- 
pered a  few  words  in  her  ear  that  brought  a  look  of  surprise 
and  pleasure  into  her  eyes.  Edna  only  saw  the  expressior 
of  his  face,  and  the  tenderness,  the  pleading  written  there 
astonished  and  puzzled  her.  The  next  moment  they  rose 
from  the  table,  and  as  Mr.  Murray  drew  his  cousin's  hand 
under  his  arm,  Edna  hurried  away  to  her  own  room. 

Among  the  numerous  magazines  to  which  St.  Elmo  sub- 
scribed,was  one  renowned  for  the  lofty  tone  of  its  articles 
and  the  asperity  of  its  carping  criticisms,  and  this  periodical 
Edna  always  singled  out  and  read  with  avidity. 


ST.  ELMO.  179 

The  name  of  the  editor  swung  in  terrorum  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  all  humble  authorlings,  and  had  become  a  synonym 
for  merciless  critical  excoriation. 

To  this  literary  Fouquier  Tinville,  the  orphan  had  daring- 
ly written  some  weeks  before,  stating  her  determination  to 
attempt  a  book,  and  asking  permission  to  submit  the  first 
chapter  to  his  searching  inspection.  She  wrote  that  she 
expected  him  |to  find  faults — he  always  did  ;  and  she  pre- 
ferred that  her  work  should  be  roughly  handled  by  him, 
rather  than  patted  and  smeared  with  faint  praise  by  men  of 
inferior  critical  astuteness. 

The  anxiously  expected  reply  had  come  at  last,  and  as 
she  locked  her  door  and  sat  down  to  read  it,  she  trembled 
from  head  to  foot.  In  the  centre  of  a  handsome  sheet  of 
tinted  paper  she  found  these  lines. 

"  Madam  :  In  reply  to  your  very  extraordinary  request 
I  have  the  honor  to  inform  you,  that  my  time  is  so  entirely 
consumed  by  necessary  and  important  claims,  that  I  find  no 
leisure  at  my  command  for  the  examination  of  the  em- 
bryonic chapter  of  a  contemplated  book.  I  am,  madam, 
Very  respectfully, 

Douglass  G.  Manning." 

Tears  of  disappointment  filled  her  eyes  and  for  a  moment 
she  bit  her,  lip  with  uncontrolled  vexation;  then  refolding 
the  letter,  she  put  it  in  a  drawer  of  her  desk, and  said  sor- 
rowfully : 

"  I  certainly  had  no  right  to  expect  any  thing  more  polite 
from  him.  He  snubs  even  his  popular  contributors,  and  of 
course  he  would  not  be  particularly  courteous  to  an  un- 
known scribbler.  Perhaps  some  day  I  may  make  him  re- 
gret that  letter ;  and  such  a  triumph  will  more  than  com- 
pensate for  this  mortification.  One  might  think  that  all 
literary  people,  editors,  authors,  reviewers,  would  sympa- 
thize with  each  other,  and  stretch  out  their  hands  to  aid 
one  another  ;  but  it  seems  there  is  less  free-masonry  among 


180  ST.  ELMO. 

literati  than  other  guilds.  They  wage  an  internee  hit  wai 
among  themselves,  though  it  certainly  can  not  he  teimed 
1  civil  strife,'  judging  from  Mr.  Douglass  Manning's  letter." 

Chagrined  and  perplexed  she  walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  wondering  what  step  would  be  most  expedient  in  the 
present  state  of  affairs  ;  and  trying  to  persuade  herself  that 
she  ought  to  consult  Mr.  Hammond.  But  she  wished  to 
surprise  him,  to  hear  his  impartial  opinion  of  a  printed 
article  which  he  could  not  suspect  that  she  had  written, 
and  finally  she  resolved  to  say  nothing  to  any  one,  to  work 
on  in  silence,  relying  only  upon  herself.  "With  this  deter- 
mination she  sat  down  before  her  desk,  opened  the  ms.  oi 
her  book,  and  very  soon  became  absorbed  in  writing  the 
second  chapter.  Before  she  had  finished  even  the  first  sen- 
tence a  hasty  rap  summoned  her  to  the  door. 

She  opened  it,  and  found  Mr.  Murray  standing  inthehall, 
with  a  candle  in  his  hand. 

"  Where  is  that  volume  of  chess  problems  which  you  had 
last  week?" 

"  It  is  here,  sir." 

She  took  it  from  the  table,  and  as  she  approached  him, 
Mr.  Murray  held  the  light  close  to  her  countenance,  and 
gave  her  one  of  those  keen  looks,  which  always  reminded 
her  of  the  descriptions  of  the  scrutiny  of  the  Council  of  Ten, 
in  the  days  when  "  lions'  mouths "  grinned  at  the  street- 
corners  in  Venice. 

Something  in  the  curious  expression  of  his  face,  and  the 
evident  satisfaction  which  he  derived  from  his  hasty  inves- 
tigation, told  Edna  that  the  book  was  a  mere  pretext.  She 
drew  back  and  asked : 

"  Have  I  any  other  book  that  you  need  ?". 

"  No ;  I  have  all  I  came  for." 

Smiling  half  mischievously,  half  maliciously,  he  turned 
and  left  her. 

"  I  wonder  what  he  saw  in  my  face  that  amused  him  ?' 

She  walked  up   to  the   bureau  and  examined  her  own 


ST.  ELMO.  181 

tniage  in  the  mirror ;  and  there,  on  her  cheeks>  were  the 
unmistakable  traces  of  the  tears  of  vexation  and  disappoint 
nient. 

"  At  least  he  can  have  no  idea  of  the  cause,  and  that  is 
some  comfort,  for  he  is  too  honorable  to  open  my  letters." 

But  just  here  a  doubt  flashed  into  her  mind,  and  ren 
dered  her  restless. 

"  How  do  I  know  that  he  is  honorable  ?  Can  any  man 
be  worthy  of  trust  who  holds  nothing  sacred,  and  sneers  at 
all  religions  ?     No  ;  he  has  no  conscience ;  and  yet " 

She  sighed  and  went  back  to  her  ms.,  and  though  for 
a  while  St.  Elmo  Murray's  mocking  eyes  seemed  to  glitter 
on  the  pages,  her  thoughts  ere  long  were  anchored  once 
more,  with  the  olive-crowned  priestess  in  the  temple  at 
Sais. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


F  the  seers  of  geology  are  correct  in  assuming 
that  the  age  of  the  human  race  is  coincident 
with  that  of  the  alluvial  stratum,  from  eighty  to 
one  hundred  centuries,  are  not  domestic  tradi- 
tions and  household  customs  the  great  arteries  in  which  beats 
the  social  life  of  humanity,  and  which  veining  all  epochs, 
link  the  race  in  homogeneity  ?  Roman  women  suffered  no 
first  day  of  May  to  pass  without  celebrating  the  festival 
of  Bona  Dea  y  and  two  thousaud  years  later,  girls  who 
know  as  little  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  ancient  Italy, 
as  of  the  municipal  regulations  of  fabulous  "Manoa,"  lie 
down  to  sleep  on  the  last  day  of  April,  and  kissing  the  fond, 
maternal  face  that  bends  above  their  pillows,  eagerly  repeat : 

"  Tou  must  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother  dear  ; 
To-morrow  'ill  be  the  happiest  time  of  all  the  glad  new-year  ; 
Of  all  the  glad  new-year,  mother,  the  maddest,  merriest  day, 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May." 

For  a  fortnight  Edna  had  been  busily  engaged  in  writing 
colloquies  and  speeches  for  the  Sabbath-school  children  of 
the  village,  and  in  attending  the  rehearsals  for  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  various  parts.  Assisted  by  Mr.  Hammond  and 
tie  ladies  of  his  congregation,  she  had  prepared  a  varied 
programme,  and  was  almost  as  much  interested  in  the  suc- 
cess of  the  youthful  orators,  as  the  superintendent  of  the 
school, or  the  parents  of  the  children.  The  day  was  pro- 
pitious —clear,  balmy,  all  that  could  be  asked  of  the  blue- 


ST.  ELMO.  183 

eyed  month — and  as  the  festival  was  to  be  celebrated  in  a 
beautiful  grove  of  elms  and  chestnuts,  almost  in  sight  of  Le 
Bocage,  Edna  went  over  very  early  to  aid  in  arranging 
the  tables,  decking  the  platforms  with  flowers,  and  training 
one  juvenile  Demosthenes,  whose  elocution  was  as  unprom- 
ising as  that  of  his  Greek  model. 

Despite  her  patient  teachings,  this  boy's  awkwardness 
threatened  to  spoil  every  thing,  and  as  she  watched  the 
nervous  wringing  of  his  hands  and  desperate  shuffling  of 
his  feet,  she  was  tempted  to  give  him  up  in  despair.  The 
dew  hung  heavily  on  grass  and  foliage,  and  the  matin 
carol  of  the  birds  still  swelled  through  the  leafy  aisles  of  the 
grove,  when  she  took  the  trembling  boy  to  a  secluded  spot, 
directed  him  to  stand  on  a  mossy  log,  where  two  lizards 
lay  blinking,  and  repeat  his  speech. 

He  stammered  most  unsatisfactorily  through  it,  and,  in- 
tent on  his  improvement,  Edna  climbed  upon  a  stump  and 
delivered  the  speech  for  him,  gesticulating  and  emphasizing 
just  as  she  wished  him  to  do.  As  the : last  words  of  the 
peroration  passed  her  lips,  and  while  she  stood  on  the 
stump,  a  sudden  clapping  of  hands  startled  her,  and  Gor- 
don Leigh's  cheerful  voice  exclaimed,  "  Encore  !  Encore ! 
Since  the  days  of  Hypatia  you  have  not  had  your  equal 
among  female  elocutionists.  I  would  not  have  missed  it  for 
any  consideration,  so  pray  forgive  me  for  eavesdropping." 

He  came  forward,  held  out  his  hand,  and  added  :  "  Allow 
me  to  assist  you  in  dismounting  from  your  temporary  ros- 
trum, whence  you  bear  your  '  blushing  honors  thick  upon 
you.'  Jamie,  do  you  think  you  can  do  as  well  as  Miss 
Edna  when  your  time  comes  ?" 

"  Oh !  no,  sir ;  but  I  will  try  not  to  make  her  ashamed  of 
me." 

He  snatched  his  hat  from  the  log  and  ran  ofF,  leaving  the 
friends  to  walk  back  more  leisurely  to  the  spot  selected  for  the 
tables.  Edna  had  been  too  much  disconcerted  by  his  unex- 
pected appearance, to  utter  a  word  until  now,  and  her  tone 


184  ST.  ELMO. 

expressed  annoyance  as  she  said,  "I  am  very  sorry  you 
interrupted  me,  for  Jamie  will  make  an  ignominious 
failure.  Have  you  nothing  better  to  do  than  stray  about 
the  woods  like  a  satyr  ?" 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  be  satyrized  even  by  you  on  thi>» 
occasion ;  for  what  man,  whose  blood  is  not  curdled  by  cyni- 
cism, can  prefer  to  spend  May-day  among  musty  law  books 
and  red  tape,  when  he  has  the  alternative  of  listening  to 
such  declamation  as  you  favored  me  with  just  now,  or  of 
participating  in  the  sports  of  one  hundred  happy  children  ? 
Beside,  my  good  '  familiar,'  or  rather  my  sortes  Praznesti- 
nee,  told  me  that  I  should  find  you  here,  and  I  wanted  to 
see  you  before  the  company  assembled  ;  why  have  you  so 
pertinaciously  avoided  me  of  late  ?" 

They  stood  close  to  each  other  in  the  shade  of  the  elms, 
and  Gordon  thought  that  never  before  had  she  looked  so 
beautiful,  as  the  mild  perfumed  breeze  stirred  the  folds  of 
her  white  dress,  and  fluttered  the  blue  ribbons  that  looped 
her  hair  and  girdled  her  waist. 

Just  at  that  instant,  ere  she  could  reply,  a  rustling  of  the 
undergrowth  arrested  further  conversation,  and  Mr.  Murray 
stepped  out  of  the  adjoining  thicket,  with  his  gun  in  his 
hand,  and  his  grim  pet  Ali  at  his  heels.  Whatever  sur- 
prise he  may  have  felt,  his  countenance  certainly  betrayed 
none,  as  he  lifted  his  hat  and  said : 

"Good  morning,  Leigh.  I  shall  not  intrude  upon  the 
Sanhedrim,  on  which  I  have  happened  to  stumble,  longer 
than  is  necessary  to  ask  if  you  are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  a 
match  with  you  ?     I  find  my  case  empty." 

Mr  Leigh  took  a  match  from  his  pocket,  and  while  Mr. 
Murray  lighted  his  cigar,his  eyes  rested  for  an  instant  only 
on  Edna's  flushed  face. 

"Are  you  not  coming  to  the  children's  celebration?" 
asked  Gordon. 

"  No,  indeed  !  I  own  that  I  am  as  lazy  as  a  Turk ;  but 
while  I  am  constitutionally  and  habitually  opposed  to  labor, 


ST.  ELMO.  185 

I  swear  I  should  prefer  to  plough  or  break  stones  till  sun 
down,  sooner  than  listen  to  all  the  rant  a:id  fustian  that 
spectators  will  be  called  on  to  endure  this  morning.  I  have 
not  sufficient  courage  to  remain  and  witness  what  would 
certainly  recall  '  the  manner  of  Bombastes  Furioso  making 
love  to  Distaffina !'  Will  you  have  a  cigar  ?  Good-morn- 
ing." 

He  lifted  his  hat,  shouldered  his  gun,  and  calling  to  hia 
dog,  disappeared  among  the  thick  undergrowth. 

"  What  an  incorrigible  savage  !"  muttered  Mr.  Leigh, 
replacing  the  match-case  in  his  pocket. 

His  companion  made  no  answer  and  was  hurrying  on, 
but  he  caught  her  dress  and  detained  her. 

"  Do  not  go  unul  you  have  heard  what  I  have  to  say  to 
you.  More  than  once  you  have  denied  me  an  opportunity 
of  expressing  what  you  must  long  ago  have  suspected. 
Edna,  you  know  very  well  that  I  love  you  better  than 
every  thing  else — that  I  have  loved  you  from  the  first  day 
of  our  acquaintance  ;  and  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  my 
happiness  is  in  your  dear  little  hands ;  that  my  future  will 
be  joyless  unless  you  share  it;  that  the  one  darling  hope 
of  my  life  is  to  call  you  my  wife.  Do  not  draw  your  hand 
from  mine  !  Dear  Edna,  let  me  keep  it  always.  Do  I  mis- 
take your  feelings  when  I  hope  that  you  return  my  affec- 
tion ?" 

"  You  entirely  mistake  them,  Mr.  Leigh,  in  supposing 
that  you  can  ever  be  more  to  me  than  a  very  dear  and 
valued  friend.  It  grieves  me  very  much  to  be  forced  to 
give  you  pain  or  cause  you  disappointment ;  but  I  should 
wrong  you  even  more  than  myself,  were  I  to  leave  you  in 
doubt  concerning  my  feeling  toward  you.  I  like  your  so- 
ciety, I  admire  your  many  noble  qualities,  and  you  have  my 
entire  confidence  and  highest  esteem ;  but  it  is  impossible 
that  I  can  ever  be  your  wife." 

"  Why  impossible  ?" 

"  Because  I  never  could  love  you  as  I  think  I  ought  to 
love  the  man  I  marry.' 


186  8T-  ELMO. 

"  My  dear  Edna,  answer  one  question  candidly,  Do  yea 
love  any  one  else  better  than  you  love  me  ?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Leigh." 

"  Does  Mr.  Murray  stand  between  your  heart  and  mine  ?'' 

"  Oh  !  do,  Mr.  Leigh." 

"  Then  I  will  not  yield  the  hope  of  winning  your  love. 
If  your  heart  is  free,  I  will  have  it  all  my  own  one  day  ! 
O  Edna !  why  can  you  not  love  me  ?  I  would  make  you 
very  happy.  My  darling's  home  should  possess  all  that 
fortune  and  devoted  affection  could  supply  ;  not  one  wish 
should  remain  ungratified." 

"  I  am  able  to  earn  a  home  ;  I  do  not  intend  to  marry 
for  one." 

"  Ah  !  your  pride  is  your  only  fault,  and  it  will  cause  us 
both  much  suffering,  I  fear.  Edna,  I  know  how  sensitive 
you  are,  and  how  deeply  your  delicacy  has  been  wounded 
by  the  malicious  meddling  of  ill-mannered  gossips.  I  know 
why  you  abandoned  your  Hebrew  recitations,  and  a  wish 
to  spare  your  feelings  alone  prevented  me  from  punishing 
certain  scandal-mongers  as  they  deserved.  But,  dearest, 
do  not  visit  their  offences  upon  me  !  Because  they  dared 
ascribe  their  own  ignoble  motives  to  you,  do  not  lock  your 
heart  against  me  and  refuse  me  the  privilege  of  making 
your  life  happy." 

"  Mr.  Leigh,  you  are  not  necessary  to  my  happiness. 
While  our  tastes  are  in  many  respects  congenial,  and  it  is 
pleasant  to  be  with  you  occasionally,  it  would  not  cause 
me  any  deep  grief  if  I  were  never  to  see  you  again." 

"  O  Edna!  you  are  cruel !  unlike  yourself!" 

"  Forgive  me,  sir,  if  I  seem  so,  and  believe  me  when  I 
assure  you  that  it  pains  me  more  to  say  it  than  you  to  hear 
it.  No  woman  should  marry  a  man  whose  affection  and 
society  are  not  absolutely  essential  to  her  peace  of  mind 
and  heart.  Applying  this  test  to  you,  I  find  that  mine  is 
in  no  degree  dependent  on  you  ;  and  though  you  have  no 
warmer  friend,  I  must  tell  you  it  is  utterly  useless  for  you 


ST.  ELMO.  137 

to  hope  that  I  shall  ever  love  you  as  you  wish.  Mr.  Leigh, 
I  regret  that  I  can  not ;  and  if  my  heart  were  only  puppet 
of  my  will,  I  would  try  to  reciprocate  your  affection,  be- 
cause I  appreciate  so  fully  and  so  gratefully  all  that  you 
generously  offer  me.  To-day  you  stretch  out  your  hand  to 
a  poor  girl,  of  unknown  parentage,  reared  by  charity— a 
girl  considered  by  your  family  and  friends  an  obscure  in- 
terloper in  aristocratic  circles,  and  with  a  noble  magna- 
nimity, for  which  I  shall  thank  you  always,  you  say,  Come, 
take  my  name,  share  my  fortune,  wrap  yourself  in  my  love, 
and  be  happy  !  I  will  give  you  a  lofty  position  in  society, 
whence  you  can  look  down  on  those  who  sneer  at  your  pov- 
erty and  lineage.  O  Mr.  Leigh  !  God  knows  I  wish  I  loved 
you  as  you  deserve  !  Ambition  and  gratitude  alike  plead 
for  you ;  but  it  is  impossible  that  I  could  ever  consent  to 
be  your  wife." 

Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears  as  she  looked  in  his  handsome 
face,  hitherto  so  bright  and  genial,  now  clouded  and  sad- 
dened by  a  bitter  disappointment ;  and  suddenly  catching 
both  his  hands  in  hers,  she  stooped  and  pressed  her  lips  to 
them. 

"Although  you  refuse  to  encourage,  you  can  not  crush 
the  hope  that  my  affection  will,  after  a  while,  win  yours  in 
return.  You  are  very  young,  and  as  yet  scarcely'  know 
your  own  heart,  and  unshaken  constancy  on  my  part  will 
plead  for  me  in  coming  years.  I  will  be  patient,  and  as 
long  as  you  are  Edna  Earl — as  long  as  you  remain  mistress 
of  your  own  heart — I  shall  cling  fondly  to  the  only  hope 
that  gladdens  my  future.  Over  my  feelings  you  have  no 
control ;  you  may  refuse  me  your  hand — that  is  your  right 
— but  while  I  shall  abstain  from  demonstrations  of  affection 
I  shall  certainly  cherish  the  hope  of  possessing  it.  Mean- 
time, permit  me  to  ask  whether  you  still  contemplate  leav- 
ing Mrs.  Murray's  house  ?  Miss  Harding  told  my  sister 
yesterday  that  in  a  few  months  you  would  obtain  a  situa- 
tion as  governess  or  teacher  in  a  school." 


188  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Such  is  certainly  my  intention  ;  but  I  am  at  a  loss  to 
conjecture  how  Miss  Harding  obtained  her  information,  as 
the  matter  has  not  been  alluded  to  since  her  arrival." 

"  I  trust  you  will  pardon  the  liberty  I  take,  in  warning 
you  to  be  exceedingly  circumspect  in  your  intercourse  with 
her,  for  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  her  sentiments  toward 
you  are  not  so  friendly  as  might  be  desired." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Leigh.  I  am  aware  of  her  antipathy, 
though  of  its  cause  I  am  ignorant ;  and  our  intercourse  ia 
limited  to  the  salutations  of  the  day,  and  the  courtesies  of 
the  table." 

Drawing  from  her  finger  the  emerald  which  had  oc- 
casioned so  many  disquieting  reflections,  Edna  continu- 
ed: 

"  You  must  allow  me  to  retiirn  the  ring,  which  I  have 
hitherto  worn  as  a  token  of  friendship,  and  which  I  can  not 
consent  to  retain  any  longer.  '  Peace  be  with  you,'  dear 
friend,  is  the  earnest  prayer  of  my  heart.  Our  paths  in  life 
will  soon  diverge  so  widely  that  we  shall  probably  see 
each  other  rarely  ;  but  none  of  your  friends  will  rejoice 
more  sincerely  than  I  to  hear  of  your  happiness  and  pros- 
perity, for  no  one  else  has  such  cause  to  hold  you  in  grate- 
ful remembrance.  Good-by,  Mr.  Leigh.  Think  of  me  here- 
after only  as  a  friend." 

She  gave  him  both  hands  for  a  minute,  left  the  ring  in 
his  palm,  and,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  went  back  to  the 
tables  and  platforms. 

Very  rapidly,  chattering  groups  of  happy  children  col- 
lected in  the  grove  ;  red-cheeked  boys  clad  in  white  linen 
suits,  with  new  straw  hats  belted  with  black,  and  fair- 
browed  girls  robed  in  spotless  muslin,  garlanded  with 
flowers,  and  bright  with  rosy  badges.  Sparkling  eyes, 
laughing  lips,  sweet,  mirthful,  eager  voices,  and  shadowless 
hearts.  Ah !  that  May-day  could  stretch  from  the  fairy 
tropic-land  of  childhood  to  the  Arctic  zone  of  age,  where 
snows  fall  chilling  and  desolate,  drifting  over  the  dead  but 


ST.  ELMO.  189 

unlmried  hopes  which  the  great  stream  i>f  tin  e  bears  and 
buffets  on  its  broad,  swift  surface. 

The  celebration  was  a  complete  success  ;  even  awkward 
Jamie  acquitted  himself  with  more  ease  and  grace  than  his 
friends  had  dared  to  hope.  Speeches  and  songs  were 
warmly  applauded,  proud  parents  watched  their  merry 
darlings  with  eyes  that  brimmed  with  tenderness  ;  and  the 
heart  of  Semiramis  never  throbbed  more  triumphantly  than 
that  of  the  delighted  young  Queen  of  the  May,  who  would 
not  have  exchanged  her  floral  crown  for  all  the  jewels  that 
glittered  in  the  diadem  of  the  Assyrian  sovereign. 

Late  in  the  evening  of  that  festal  day  Mr.  Hammond  sat 
alone  on  the  portico  of  the  old-fashioned  parsonage.  The 
full  moon  rising  over  the  arched  windows  of  the  neighbor- 
ing church,  shone  on  the  marble  monuments  that  marked 
the  rows  of  graves  ;  and  the  golden  beams  stealing  through 
the  thick  vines  which  clustered  around  the  wooden  columns, 
broidered  in  glittering  arabesque  the  polished  floor  at  the 
old  man's  feet. 

That  solemn,  mysterious  silence  which  nature  reverently 
folds  like  a  velvet  pall  over  the  bier  of  the  pale  dead  day, 
when  the  sky  is 

"  Filling  more  and  more  with  crystal  light, 
As  pensive  evening  deepens  into  night," 

was  now  hushing  the  hum  and  stir  of  the  village  ;  and  only 
the  occasional  far-off  bark  of  a  dog,  and  the  clear,  sweet, 
vesper-song  of  a  mocking-bird,  swinging  in  the  myrtle  tree, 
broke  the  repose  so  soothing  after  the  bustle  of  the  day. 
To  labor  and  to  pray  from  dawn  till  dusk  is  the  sole  legacy 
which  sin-stained  man  brought  through  the  naming  gate 
of  Eden,  and,  in  the  gray  gloaming,  mother  Earth  stretches 
her  vast  hands  tenderly  over  her  drooping,  toil-spent  child- 
ren, and  mercifully  murmurs  nunc  dimittis. 

Close  to  the  minister's  arm-chair  stood  a  small  table 
covered  with  a  snowy  cloth,  on  which  was  placed  the  even 


190  ST.  ELMO 

ing  meal,  consisting  of  strawberries,  honey,  bread,  Dutter, 
and  milk.  At  his  feet  lay  the  white  cat,  bathed  in  moon- 
shine, and  playing  with  a  fragrant  spray  of  honeysuckle 
which  trailed  within  reach  of  her  paws,  and  swung  to  and 
fro,  like  a  spicy  censer,  as  the  soft  breeze  stole  up  from  the 
starry  south.  The  supper  was  untasted,  the  old  man's  sil- 
vered head  leaned  wearily  on  his  shrunken  hand,  and 
through  a  tearful  mist  his  mild  eyes  looked  toward  the 
churchyard,  where  gleamed  the  monumental  shafts  that 
guarded  his  mouldering  household  idols,  his  white-robed, 
darling  dead. 

His  past  was  a  wide,  fair,  fruitful  field  of  hallowed  labor 
bounteous  with  promise  for  that  prophetic  harvest  whereof 
God's  angels  are  reapers  ;  and  his  future,  whose  near  hori- 
zon was  already  rimmed  with  the  light  of  eternity,  was 
full  of  that  blessed  '  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding.' 
Yet  to-night,  precious  reminiscences  laid  their  soft  mes- 
meric fingers  on  his  heart,  and  before  him,  all  unbidden, 
floated  visions  of  other  May-days,  long,  long  ago,  when  the 
queen  of  his  boyish  affections  had  worn  her  crown  of  flow- 
ers ;  and  many,  many  years  later,  when,  as  the  queen  of  his 
home,  and  the  proud  mother  of  his  children,  she  had  stood 
with  her  quivering  hand  nestled  in  his,  listening  breath- 
lessly to  the  May-day  speech  of  their  golden  -  haired 
daughter. 

"  Why  does  the  sea  of  thought  thus  backward  roll  ? 

Memory's  the  breeze  that  through  the  cordage  raves, 
And  ever  drives  us  on  some  homeward  shoal, 

As  if  she  loved  the  melancholy  waves 
That,  murmuring  shoreward,  break  o'er  a  reef  of  graves." 

The  song  of  the  mocking-bird  still  rang  from  the  downy 
cradle  of  myrtle  blossoms,  and  a  whip-poor-will  answered 
from  a  cedar  in  the  church-yard,  when  the  slamming  of  the 
parsonage  gate  startled  the  shy  thrush  that  slept  in  the 
vines  that  overarched  it,  and  Mr.  Leigh  came  slowly  up  the 
walk,  which  was  lined  with  purple  and  white  lilies  whose 


ST.  ELMO.  191 

loveliness,  undiminished  by  the  weai  o^  centuries,  still! 
rivaled  the  glory  of  Solomon. 

As  he  ascended  the  steps  and  removed  his  hat,the  pastor 
rose  and  placed  a  chair  for  him  near  his  own. 

"  Good  evening,  Gordon.  Where  did  you  immure  your 
self  all  day  ?  I  expected  to  find  you  taking  part  in  the 
children's  festival,  and  hunted  for  you  in  the  crowd." 

"  I  expected  to  attend,  hut  this  morning  something  oc- 
curred which  unfitted  me  for  enjoyment  of  any  kind  ;  con- 
sequently I  thought  it  best  to  keep  myself  and  my  moodi- 
ness out  of  sight." 

"  I  trust  nothing  serious  has  happened  ?" 

"  Yes,  something  that  threatens  to  blast  all  my  hopes, 
and  make  my  life  one  great  disappointment.  Has  not  Edna 
told  you?" 

"She  has  told  me  nothing  relative  to  yourself,  but  I 
noticed  that  she  was  depressed  and  grieved  about  some- 
thing. She  was  abstracted  and  restless,  and  went  home 
very  early,  pleading  fatigue  and  headache." 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  shadow  of  hope  that  her  heart  ached  also  ! 
Mr.  Hammond,  I  am  very  wretched,  and  have  come  to  you 
for  sympathy  and  counsel.  Of  course  you  have  seen  for  a 
long  time  that  I  loved  her  very  devotedly,  that  I  intended 
if  possible  to  make  her  my  wife.  Although  she  was  very 
shy  and  guarded,  and  never  gave  me  any  reason  to  believe 
she  returned  my  affection,  I  thought — I  hoped  she  would 
not  reject  me,  and  I  admired  her  even  more  because  of  her 
reticence,  for  I  could  not  value  a  love  which  I  knew  was 
mine  unasked.  To-day  I  mentioned  the  subject  to  her,  told 
her  how  entirely  my  heart^was  hers,  offered  her  my  hand 
and  fortune,  and  was  refused  most  decidedly.  Her  manner 
more  than  her  words  distressed  and  discouraged  me.  She 
showed  so  plainly  that  she  felt  only  friendship  for  me,  and 
entertained  only  regret  for  the  pain  she  gave  me.  She  waa 
kind  and  delicate,  but  oh !  so  crushingly  positive !  I  saw 
that  I  had  no  more  place  in  her  heart  than  that  whip-poor- 


192  ST.  ELMO. 

will  in  the  cedars  yonder.  And  yet  I  shall  net  give  her  up  \ 
while  I  live  I  will  cling  to  the  hope  that  I  may  finally  win 
her.  Thousands  of  women  have  rejected  a  man  again  and 
again  and  at  last  yielded  and  accepted  him ;  and  I  do  not 
believe  Edna  can  withstand  the  devotion  of  a  lifetime." 

"Do  not  deceive  youi'self,  Gordon.  It  is  true  many 
women  are  flattered  by  a  man's  perseverance,  their  vanity  is 
gratified.  They  first  reproach  themselves  for  the  suffering 
they  inflict,  then  gratitude  for  constancy  comes  to  plead  for 
the  inconsolable  suitor,  and  at  last  they  persuade  themselves 
that  such  devotion  can  not  fail  to  make  them  happy.  Such 
a  woman  Edna  is  not,  and  if  I  have  correctly  understood 
her  character,  never  can  be.  I  sympathize  with  you,  Gor- 
don, and  it  is  because  I  love  •  you  so  sincerely  that  I  warn 
you  against  a  hope  destined  to  cheat  you." 

"  But  she  admitted  that  she  loved  no  one  else,  and  I  can 
see  no  reason  why,  after  a  while,  she  may  not  give  me 
her  heart." 

"I  have  watched  her  for  years.  I  think  I  know  her 
nature  better  than  any  other  human  being,  and  I  tell  you, 
Edna  Earl  will  never  coax  and  persuade  herself  to  marry  any 
man,  no  matter  what  his  position  and  endowments  may  be. 
She  is  not  a  dejjendent  woman ;  the  circumstances  of  her 
life  have  forced  her  to  dispense  with  companionship,  she  is 
sufficient  for  herself;  and  while  she  loves  her  friends  warmly 
and  tenderly,  she  feels  the  need  of  no  one.  If  she  ever 
marries,  it  will  not  be  from  gratitude  for  devotion,  but  be- 
cause she  has  learned  to  love,  almost  against  her  will,  some 
strong,  vigorous  thinker,  some  man  whose  will  and  intellect 
master  hers,  who  compels  her  heai't's  homage,  and  without 
whose  society  she  can  not  persuade  herself  to  live." 

"  And  why  may  I  not  hope  that  such  will,  one  day,  be 
my  good  fortune  ?" 

For  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Hammond  was  silent,  walking  up 
and  down  the  wide  portico  ;  and  when  he  resumed  his  seat, 
he  laid  his  hand  affectionately  on  the  young  man's  should  esc, 
saying 


ST.  ELMO.  193 

"  My  dear  Gordon,  your  happiness  as  well  as  hers  is  very 
dear  to  me.  I  love  you  both,  and  you  will,  you  must  for- 
give me  if  what  I  am  about  to  say  should  wound  or  mortify 
you.  Knowing  you  both  as  I  do,  and  wishing  to  save  you 
future  disappointment,  I  should,  even  were  you  my  own 
son,  certainly  tell  you,  Gordon,  you  will  never  be  Edna's 
husband,  because  intellectually  she  is  your  superior.  She 
feels  this,  and  will  not  marry  one  to  Whose  mind  her  own 
does  not  bow  in  reverence.  To  rule  the  man  she  married 
would  make  her  miserable,  and  she  could  only  find  happi- 
ness in  being  ruled  by  an  intellect  to  which  she  looked  up 
admiringly.  I  know  that  many  very  gifted  women  have 
married  their  inferiors,  but  Edna  is  peculiar,  and  in  some 
respects  totally  unlike  any  other  woman  whose  character  I 
have  carefully  studied.  Gordon,  you  are  not  offended  with 
me  ?" 

Mr.  Leigh  put  out  his  hand,  grasped  that  of  his  compan- 
ion, and  his  voice  was  marked  by  unwonted  tremor  as  he 
answered : 

"  You  pain  and  humiliate  me  beyond  expression,  but  1 
could  never  be  offended  at  words  which  I  am  obliged  to 
feel  are  dictated  by  genuine  affection.  Mr.  Hammond, 
might  not  years  of  thought  and  study  remove  the  obstacle 
to  which  you  allude  ?  Can  I  not  acquire  all  that  you  deem 
requisite?  I  would  dedicate  my  life  to  the  attainment  of 
knowledge,  to  the  improvement  of  my  faculties." 

"Erudition  would  not  satisfy  her.  Do  you  suppose  she 
could  wed  a  mere  walking  encyclopaedia  ?  She  is  naturally 
more  gifted  than  you  are,  and,  unfortunately  for  you,  she 
discovered  the  fact  when  you  were  studying  together." 

"  But,  sir,  women  listen  to  the  promptings  of  heart  much 
oftener  than  to  the  cold,  stern  dictates  of  reason." 

"  Very  true,  Gordon ;  but  her  heart  declares  against 
vou." 

"  Do  you  know  any  one  whom  you  regard  as  fully  wor- 
hy  of  her — any  one  who  will  probably  win  her  ?" 


194  ST-  HLZ10. 

"  I  know  no  man  whose  noble,  generous  neart  -enders 
Lim  so  worthy  of  her  as  yourself;  and  if  sne  could  only 
love  you  as  you  deserve,  I  should  be  rejoiced ;  jut  that  1 
believe  to  be  impossible." 

"  Do  you  know  how  soon  she  expects  to  leave  Le  Bocage." 

"  Probably  about  the  close  of  the  year." 

"  I  can  not  bear  to  think  of  her  as  going  out  among  stran- 
gers— being  buffeted  by  the  world,  while  she  toils  to  earn  a 
maintenance.  It  is  inexpressibly  bitter  for  me  to  reflect, 
that  the  girl  whom  I  love  above  every  thing  upon  earth, 
who  would  preside  so  gracefully,  so  elegantly  over  my  home, 
and  make  my  life  so  proud  and  happy,  should  prefer  to 
shut  herself  up  in  a  school-room,  and  wear  out  her  life  in 
teaching  fretful,  spoiled,  trying  children !  O  Mr.  Ham- 
mond !  can  you  not  prevail  upon  her  to  abandon  this  scheme  ? 
Think  what  a  complete  sacrifice  i*  will  be." 

"  If  she  feels  that  the  hand  of  duty  points  out  this  des- 
tiny as  hers,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  dissuade  her ;  for  peace 
of  mind  and  heart  is  found  nowhere,  save  in  accordance 
with  the  dictates  of  conscience  and  judgment.  Since  Miss 
Harding's  arrival  at  Le  Bocage,  I  fear  Edna  will  realize 
rapidly  that  she  is  no  longer  needed  as  a  companion  by 
Mrs.  Murray,  and  her  proud  spirit  will  rebel  against  the 
surveillance  to  which  I  apprehend  she  is  already  subjected. 
She  has  always  expressed  a  desire  to  maintain  herself  by 
teaching,  but  I  suspect  that  she  will  do  so  by  her  pen. 
When  she  prepares  to  quit  Mrs.  Murray's  house  I  shall 
offer  her  a  home  in  mine ;  but  I  have  little  hope  that  she 
will  accept  it,  much  as  she  loves  me,  for  she  wants  to  see 
something  of  that  strange  mask  called  'life'  by  the 
world.  She  wishes  to  go  to  some  large  city,  where  she  can 
command  advantages  beyond  her  reach  in  this  quiet  little 
place,  and  where  her  own  exertions  will  pay  for  the  roof 
that  covers  her.  However  we  may  deplore  this  decision 
certainly  we  can  not  blame  her  for  the  feeling  that  prompts 
it." 

"  I  have  racked  my  brain  for  some  plan  by  which  I  could 


ST.  ELMO.  195 

share  my  fortune  with  her  without  her  suspecting  the 
donor ;  for  if  she  rejects  my  hand,  I  know  she  would  not 
accept  one  cent  from  me.  Can  you  suggest  any  feasible 
scheme  ?" 

Mr.  Hammond  shook  his  head,  and  after  some  reflection 
answered : 

"  We  can  do  nothing  hut  wait  and  watch  for  an  oppor- 
tunity of  aiding  her.  I  confess,  Gordon,  her  future  fills  me 
with  serious  apprehension  ;  she  is  so  proud,  so  sensitive,  so 
scrupulous,  and  yet  so  boundlessly  ambitious.  Should  her 
high  hopes,  her  fond  dreams  be  destined  to  the  sharp  and 
summary  defeat  which  frequently  overtakes  ambitious  men 
and  women  early  in  life,  I  shudder  for  her  closing  years,  and 
the  almost  unendurable  bitterness  of  her  disappointed  soul." 

"  Why  do  you  suppose  that  she  aspires  to  authorship  ?" 

"  She  has  never  intimated  such  a  purpose  to  me  ;  but  she 
can  not  be  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  she  possesses  great  tal- 
ent, and  she  is  too  conscientious  to  bury  it." 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  you  may  be  correct  in  your  predictions, 
but  I  trust  you  are  wrong  ;  and  I  can  not  believe  that  any 
woman  whose  heart  is  as  warm  and  noble  as  Edna's,  will 
continue  to  reject  such  love  as  I  shall  always  offer  her.  Of 
one  thing  I  feel  assured,  no  man  will  ever  love  her  as  well, 
or  better  than  I  do,  and  to  this  knowledge  she  will  awake 
some  day.  God  bless  her  !  she  is  the  only  woman  I  shall 
ever  want  to  call  my  wife." 

"  I  sympathize  most  keenly  with  your  severe  disappoint- 
ment, my  dear  young  friend,  and  shall  earnestly  pray  that 
in  this  matter  God  will  overrule  all  things  for  your  happi- 
ness as  well  as  hers.  He  who  notes  the  death  of  sparrows, 
and  numbers  even  the  hairs  of  our  heads,  will  not  doom 
your  noble,  tender  heart  to  life-long  loneliness  and  hunger." 

With  a  long,  close  clasp  of  hands  they  parted.  Gordon 
Leigh  walked  sadly  between  the  royal  lily-rows,  hoping 
that  the  future  would  redeem  the  past ;  and  the  old  man 
sat  alone  in  the  serene  silent  night,  watching  the  shimme* 
of  the  moen  on  the  marble  that  covered  his  dead. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


T  is  impossible,  Estelle  !  The  girl  is  not  a  fool, 
and  nothing  less  than  idiocy  can  explain  such 
conduct !" 

Flushed  and  angry,  Mrs.  Murray  walked  up 
and  down  the  floor  of  the  sitting-room  ;  and  playing  with 
the  jet  bracelet  on  her  rounded  arm,  Miss  Harding  replied  : 

"  As  Mrs.  Inge  happens  to  be  his  sister,  I  presume  she 
speaks  ex  cathedra^  and  she  certainly  expressed  very  great 
delight  at  the  failure  of  Gordon  Leigh's  suit.  She  told  me 
that  he  was  much  depressed  in  consequence  of  Edna's  re- 
jection, and  manifested  more  feeling  than  she  had  deemed 
possible  under  the  circumstances.  Of  course  she  is  much 
gratified  that  her  family  is  saved  from  the  disgrace  of  such 
a  mesalliance." 

"  You  will  oblige  me  by  being  more  choice  in  the  selec- 
tion of  your  words,  Estelle,  as  it  is  a  poor  compliment  to 
me  to  remark  that  any  man  would  be  disgraced  by  marry- 
ing a  girl  whom  I  have  raised  and  educated,  and  trained  as 
carefully  as  if  she  were  my  own  daughter.  Barring  her 
obscure  birth,  Edna  is  as  worthy  of  Gordon  as  any  dainty 
pet  of  fashion  who  lounges  in  Clara  Inge's  parlors,  and  I 
shall  take  occasion  to  tell  her  so  if  ever  she  hints  at  '  m'esal* 
liance'  in  my  presence." 

"  In  that  event  she  will  doubtless  retort  by  asking  you 
in  her  bland  and  thoroughly  well-bred  style,  whether  you 
intend  to  give  your  consent  to  Edna's  marriage  with  my 
cousin,  St.  Elmo  ?" 

Mrs.  Murray  stopped  suddenly,  and  confronting  her  niece, 

said  sternly : 


8T.  ELMO.  197 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Estelle  Harding  ?" 

"  My  dear  aunt,  the  goodness  of  your  heart  has  strangely 
blinded  you  to  the  character  of  the  girl  you  have  taken  into 
your  house,  and  honored  with  your  confidence  and  affec 
tion.  Be  patient  with  me  while  I  unmask  this  shrewd 
little  intrigante.  She  is  poor  and  unknown,  and  if  she 
leaves  your  roof,  as  she  pretends  is  her  purpose,  she  must 
work  for  her  own  maintenance,  which  no  one  will  do  from 
choice,  when  an  alternative  ot  luxurious  ease  is  within 
reach.  Mr.  Leigh  is  very  handsome,  very  agreeable, 
wealthy  and  intelligent,  and  is  considered  a  fine  match  for 
any  girl ;  yet  your  protegee  discards  him  most  positively, 
alleging  as  a  reason  that  she  does  not  love  him,  and  prefers 
hard  labor  as  a  teacher  to  securing  an  elegant  home  by 
becoming  his  wife.  That  she  can  decline  so  brilliant  an 
offer  seems  to  you  incredible,  but  I  knew  from  the  begin- 
ning that  she  would  not  accept  it.  My  dear  Aunt  Ellen,  she 
aspires  to  the  honor  of  becoming  your  daughter-in-law,  and 
can  well  afford  to  refuse  Mr.  Leigh's  hand,  when  she  hopes 
to  be  mistress  of  Le  Bocage.  She  is  pretty  and  she  knows 
it,  and  her  cunning  handling  of  her  cards  would  really 
amuse  and  interest  me,  if  I  were  not  grieved' at  the  decep- 
tion she  is  practising  upon  you.  It  has,  I  confess,  greatly 
surprised  me  that,  with  your  extraordinary  astuteness  in 
other  matters,  you  should  prove  so  obtuse  concerning  the 
machinations  which  that  girl  carries  on  in  your  own  house. 
Can  you  not  see  how  adroitly  she  flatters  St.  Elmo  by 
poring  over  his  stupid  mss.,  and  professing  devotion  to 
his  pet  authors?  Your  own  penetration  will  show  you 
how  unnatural  it  is  that  any  pretty  young  girl  like  Edna 
should  sympathize  so  intensely  with  my  cousin's  outri 
studies  and  tastes.  Before  I  had  been  in  this  house  twenty- 
four  hours,  I  saw  the  game  she  plays  so  skilfully  and  only 
wonder  that  you,  my  dear  aunt,  should  be  victimized  by 
the  cunning  of  one  on  whom  you  have  lavished  so  much 
kindness.    Leok  at  the  facts.     She  has  certainly  refused  to 


193  ST.  ELMO. 

marry  Mr.  Leigh,  and  situated  as  she  is,  how  can  you 
explain  the  mystery  by  any  other  solution  than  that  which 
I  have  given,  and  which  I  assure  you  is  patent  to  every 
one  save  yourself?" 

Painful  surprise  kept  Mrs.  Murray  silent  for  some  mo- 
ments, and  at  last  shaking  her  head,  she  exclaimed : 

"  I  do  not  belive  a  word  of  it !  I  know  her  much  better 
that  you  possibly  can,  and  so  far  from  wishing  to  marry 
my  son,  she  fears  and  dislikes  him  exceedingly.  Her  evi- 
dent aversion  to  him  has  even  caused  me  regret,  and  at 
times  they  scarcely  treat  each  other  with  ordinary  courtesy 
She  systematically  avoids  hirn,  and  occasionally,  when  I 
request  her  to  take  a  message  to  him,  I  have  been  amused 
at  the  expression  of  her  face  and  her  manoeuvres  to  find  a 
substitute.  No !  no  !  she  is  too  conscientious  to  wear  a 
mask.  You  must  tax  your  ingenuity  for  some  better  solu- 
tion." 

"  She  is  shrewd  enough  to  see  that  St.  Elmo  is  satiated 
with  flattery  and  homage ;  she  suspects  that  pique  alone 
can  force  an  entrance  to  the  citadel  of  his  heart,  and  her 
demonstrations  of  aversion  are  only  a  ruse  de  guerre.  My 
poor  aunt !  I  pity  the  disappointment  and  mortification  to 
which  you  are  destined,  when  you  discover  how  complete 
is  the  imposture  she  practises." 

"  I  tell  you,  Estelle,  I  am  neither  blind  nor  exactly  in 
my  dotage,  and  that  girl  has  no  more  intention  of " 

The  door  opened  and  Mr.  Murray  came  in.  Glancing 
round  the  room  and  observing  the  sudden  silence — his 
mother's  flushed  cheeks  and  angry  eyes,  his  cousin's  lurking 
smile,  he  threw  himself  on  the  sofa,  saying : 

"  Tantmne  animis  ccelestibus  ircef  Pray  what  dire 
calamity  has  raised  a  feud  between  you  two  ?  Has  the 
French  Count  grown  importunate,  and  does  my  mother 
refuse  her  consent  to  your  tardy  decision  to  follow  the 
dictates  of  your  long  outraged  conscience,  and  bestow 
speedily  upon  him  that  pretty  hand  of  yours,  which  has  so 


ST.  ELMO.  199 

often  been  surrendered  to  his  tender  clasp  ?  If  my  inter- 
cession in  behalf  of  said  Victor  is  considered  worthy  of 
acceptance,  pray  command  me,  Estelle,  for  I  swear  I  never 
keep  Punic  faith  with  an  ally." 

"  My  son,  did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  your  eloquence 
might  be  more  successfully  and  agreeably  exercised  in  your 
own  behalf?" 

Mrs.  Murray  looked  keenly  at  her  niece  as  she  spoke. 

"  My  profound  and  proverbial  humility  never  permitted 
the  ghost  of  such  a  suggestion  to  affright  my  soul !  Judg- 
ing from  the  confusion  which  greeted  my  entrance,  I  am 
forced  to  conclude  that  it  was  mal  apropos  !  But  prudent 
regard  for  the  reputation  of  the  household,  urged  me  to  ven- 
ture near  enough  to  the  line  of  battle  to  inform  you  that 
the  noise  of  the  conflict  proclaims  it  to  the  servants,  and 
the  unmistakable  tones  arrested  my  attention  even  in  the 
yard.  Family  feuds  become  really  respectable  if  only 
waged  sotto  voce." 

He  rose  as  if  to  leave  the  room,  but  his  mother  motioned 
him  to  remain. 

"  I  am  very  much  annoyed  at  a  matter  which  surprises 
me  beyond  expression.  Do  you  know  that  Gordon  Leigh 
has  made  Edna  an  offer  of  marriage,  and  she  has  been  in- 
sane enough  to  refuse  him  ?  Was  ever  a  girl  so  stupidly 
blind  to  her  true  interest  ?  She  can  not  hope  to  make  half 
so  brilliant  a  match,  for  he  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  prom- 
ising young  men  in  the  State,  and  would  give  her  a  posi- 
tion in  the  world  that  otherwise  she  can  never  attain." 

"  Refused  him !  Refused  affluence,  fashionable  social 
status/  diamonds,  laces,  rose-curtained  boudoir,  and  hot- 
houses !  Refused  the  glorious  privilege  of  calling  Mrs.  Inge 
*  sister,'  and  the  opportunity  of  snubbing  le  beau  monde 
who  persistently  snub  her  !  Impossible  !  you  are  growing 
old  and  oblivious  of  the  strategy  you  indulged  in  when 
throwing  your  toils  around  your  devoted  admirer,  whom  I, 
ultimately,  had  the  honor  of  calling  my  father.     Your  pet 


200  ST.  ELMO. 

vagrant,  Edna,  is  no  simpleton ;  she  can  ta  ee  care  c  Lei 
own  interests,  and,  accept  my  word  for  it,  intends  to  ilu  so. 
She  is  only  practising  a  little  harmless  coquetry — toying 
with,  her  victim,  as  fish  circle  round  and  round  the  bait 
which,  they  fully  intend  to  swallow.  Were  she  Aphsea 
herself,  I  should  say  Gordon's  success  is  as  fixed  as  any 
other  decree — 

'  In  the  chamber  of  Fate,  where,  through  tremulous  hands, 
Hum  the  threads  from  an  old-fashioned  distaff  uncurled, 
And  those  three  blind  old  women  sit  spinning  the  world  1 ' 

Be  not  cast  down,  O  my  mother !  Your  protegee  is  a  true 
daughter  of  Eve,  and  she  eyes  Leigh's  fortune  as  hungrily 
as  the  aforesaid  venerable  mother  of  mankind  did  the  tempt- 
ing apple." 

"  St.  Elmo,  it  is  neither  respectful  nor  courteous  to  be 
eternally  sneering  at  women  in  the  presence  of  your  own 
mother.  As  for  Edna,  I  am  intensely  provoked  at  her  de- 
plorable decision,  for  I  know  that  when  she  once  decides  on 
a  course  of  conduct  neither  persuasion  nor  argument  will 
move  her  one  iota.  She  is  incapable  of  the  contemptible 
coquetry  you  imputed  to  her,  and  Gordon  may  as  well  look 
elsewhere  for  a  bride." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Aunt  Ellen  ;  her  refusal  was  most 
positive." 

"  Did  she  inform  you  of  the  fact  ?"  asked  Mr.  Murray. 

"  No,  but  Mr.  Leigh  told  his  sister  that  she  gave  him  no 
hope  whatever." 

"  Then,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  have  succeeded  in 
slandering  human  nature  !  which,  hitherto,  I  deemed  quite 
impossible.  Peccavi,  peccavif  O  my  race  !  And  she  ab- 
solutely, positively  declines  to  sell  herself?  I  am  unpleas- 
antly startled  in  my  pet  theories  concerning  the  cunning, 
lynx  selfishness  of  women,  by  this  feminine  phenomenon  ! 
Why,  I  would  have  bet  half  my  estate  on  Gordon's  chances, 
for  his  handsome  face,  aided  by  such  incomparable  coiidju- 


ST.  ELMO.  201 

tors  as  my  mothev  here  and  tlie  infallible  sage  and  oiacle  of 
the  parsonage,  constituted  a  'triple  alliance'  more  formida- 
ble, more  invincible,  than  those  that  threatened  Louis  XIV. 
or  Alberoni !  I  imagined  the  girl  was  clay  in  the  experi- 
enced hands  of  matrimonial  potters,  and  that  Hebrew  stra- 
tegy would  prove  triumphant !  Accept,  my  dear  mother, 
my  most  heartfelt  sympathy  in  your  ignominious  defeat. 
You  will  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  my  condolence  when  ] 
confess  that  it  springs  from  the  mortifying  consciousness  of 
having  found  that  all  women  are  not  so  entirely  unscrupu 
lous  as  I  prefer  to  believe  them.  Permit  me  to  comfort  you 
with  the  assurance  that  the  campaign  has  been  conducted 
with  distinguished  ability  on  your  part.  You  have  dis- 
played topographical  accuracy,  wariness,  and  an  insight  into 
the  character  of  your  antagonist,  which  entitle  you  to  an 
exalted  place  among  modern  tacticians;  and  you  have  the 
consolation  of  knowing  that  you  have  been  defeated  most 
unscientifically,  and  in  direct  opposition  to  every  well-es- 
tablished maxim  and  rule  of  strategy,  by  this  rash,  incom- 
prehensible, feminine  Napoleon  !     Believe  me " 

"  Hush,  St.  Elmo  !  I  don't  wish  to  hear  any  thing  more 
about  the  miserable  affair.  Edna  is  very  obstinate  and  ex- 
ceedingly ungrateful  after  all  the  interest  I  have  manifested 
in  her  welfare,  and  henceforth  I  shall  not  concern  myself 
about  her  future.  If  she  prefers  to  drudge  through  life  as  a 
teacher,  I  shall  certainly  advise  her  to  commence  as  soon  as 
possible ;  for  if  she  can  so  entirely  dispense  with  my  coun- 
sel, she  no  longer  needs  my  protection." 

"  Have  you  reasoned  with  her  concerning  this  singular 
bliquity  of  her  mental  vision  ?" 

"  No.  She  knows  my  wishes,  and  since  she  defies  them,  I 
certainly  shall  not  condescend  to  open  my  lips  to  her  on 
this  subject."    • 

"  Women  arrogate  such  marvellous  astuteness  in  reading 
each  other's  motives,  that  I  should  imagine  Estelle's  ingeni- 
•ty  Would  furnish  an  open  sesame  to  the  locked  chamber  of 


202  81.  ELMO. 

this  girl's  heart,  and  supply  some  satisfactory  explanation 
of  her  incomprehensihle  course." 

Mr.  Murray  took  his  cousin's  hand  and  drew  her  to  a 
seat  beside  him  on  the  sofa. 

"  The  solution  is  very  easy,  my  dear  cynic.  Edna  caffl. 
well  afford  to  decline  Gordon  Leigh's  offer  when  she  expects 
and  manoeuvres  to  sell  herself  for  a  much  higher  sum,  than 
he  can  command." 

As  Miss  Harding  uttered  these  words,  Mrs.  Murray  turned 
quickly  to  observe  their  effect. 

The  cousins  looked  steadily  at  each  other,  and  St.  Elmo 
laughed  bitterly,  and  patted  Estelle's  cheek,  saying : 

"Bravo!  'Set  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief!'  I  knew  you 
would  hit  the  nail  on  the  head !  But  who  the  d — 1  is  this 
fellow  who  is  writing  to  her  from  New- York  ?  This  is  the 
second  letter  I  have  taken  out  of  the  office,  and  there  is  no 
telling  how  often  they  come ;  for,  on  both  occasions,  when  I 
troubled  myself  to  ride  to  the  post-office,  I  have  found 
letters  directed  to  her  in  this  same  handwriting." 

He  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  laid  it  on  his  knee, 
and  as  Estelle  looked  at  it,  and  then  glanced  with  a  puz- 
zled expi-ession  toward  her  aunt's  equally  curious  face,  Mr. 
Murray  passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  to  hide  their  mali- 
cious twinkle. 

"  Give  me  the  letter,  St.  Elmo ;  it  is  my  duty  to  examine 
it ;  for  as  long  as  she  is  under  my  protection  she  has  no  right 
to  cany  on  a  clandestine  correspondence  with  strangers." 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  presume  to  dispute  your  prerogative  to 
open  her  letters.  It  is  neither  your  business  nor  mine  to  dic- 
tate with  whom  she  shall  or  shall  not  correspond,  now  that 
she  is  no  longer  a  child.  Doubtless  you  remember  that  I 
warned  you  against  her  from  the  first  day  I  ever  set  my 
eyes  upon  her,  and  predicted  that  you  would  repent  in  sack- 
cloth and  ashes  your  charitable  credulity?  I  swore  then 
she  would  prove  a  thief;  you  vowed  she  was  a  saint !  But, 
nevertheless,  I  have  no  intention  of  turning  spy  at  this  late 


ST.  ELMO.  203 

day,  and  assisting  you  in  the  emxnently  honorable  work  of 
waylaying  letters  from  her  distant  swain." 

Very  coolly  he  put  the  letter  back  in  his  pocket. 

Mrs.  Murray  bit  her  lip,  and  held  out  her  hand,  saying 
peremptorily : 

"  I  insist  upon  having  the  letter.  Since  you  are  so  spas 
ipodically  and  exceedingly  scrupulous,  I  will  carry  it  imme- 
diately to  her  and  demand  a  perusal  of  the  contents.  St 
Elmo,  I  am  in  no  mood  for  jesting." 

He  only  shook  his  head,  and  laughed. 

"The  dictates  of  filial  respect  forbid  that  I  should  subject 
my  mother's  curiosity  to  so  severe  an  ordeal.  Moreover, 
were  the  letter  once  in  your  hands,  your  conscience  would 
persuade  you  that  it  is  your  imperative  duty  to  a  '  poor,  in- 
experienced, motherless'  girl,  to  inspect  it  ere  her  eager 
fingers  have  seized  it.  Besides,  she  is  coming,  and  will  save 
you  the  trouble  of  seeking  her.  I  heard  her  run  up  the  steps 
a  moment  ago." 

Before  Mrs.  Murray  could  frame  her  indignation  in  suit- 
able words,  Edna  entered,  holding  in  one  hand  her  straw 
hat,  in  the  other  a  basket,  lined  with  grape-leaves,  and  filled 
with  remarkably  large  and  fine  strawberries.  Exercise  had 
deepened  the  color  in  her  fair,  sweet  face,  which  had  never 
looked  more  lovely  than  now,  as  she  approached  her  bene- 
factress, holding  up  the  fragrant,  tempting  fruit. 

"  Mrs.  Murray,  here  is  a  present  from  Mr.  Hammond,  who 
desired  me  to  tell  you  that  these  berries  are  the  first  he  has 
gathered  from  the  new  bed,  next  to  the  row  of  lilacs.  It  is 
the  variety  he  ordered  from  New- York  last  fall,  and  some 
roots  of  which  he  says  he  sent  to  you.  Are  they  not  the 
most  perfect  specimens  you  ever  saw  ?  We  measured  them 
at  the  parsonage  and  six  filled  a  saucer." 

She  was  selecting  a  cluster  to  hold  up  for  inspection,  and 
had  not  remarked  the  cloud  on  Mrs.  Murray's  brow. 

"  The  strawberries  are  very  fine.  I  am  much  obliged  to 
Mr;  Hammond." 


204  ST.  ELMO. 

The  severity  of  the  tone  astonished  Edna,  who  lo6ked 
up  quickly,  saw  the  stern  displeasure  written  on  her  face, 
and  glanced  inquiringly  at  the  cousins.  There  was  an  awk 
ward  silence,  and  feeling  the  eyes  of  all  fixed  upon  her,  the 
orphan  picked  up  her  hat,  which  had  fallen  on  the  floor,  and 
asked : 

"  Shall  I  carry  the  basket  to  the  dining-room,  or  leave  it 
here  ?" 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  to  carry  it  anywhere." 

Mrs.  Murray  laid  her  hand  on  the  bell-cord  and  rang 
sharply.  Edna  placed  the  fruit  on  the  centre-table,  and 
suspecting  that  she  must  be  de  trap,  moved  toward  the 
door,  but  Mr.  Murray  rose  and  stood  before  her. 

"Here  is  a  letter  which  arrived  yesterday." 

He  put  it  in  her  hand,  and  as  she  recognized  the  pecu- 
liar superscription,  a  look  of  delight  flashed  over  her  fea- 
tures, and  raising  her  beaming  eyes  to  his,  she  murmured, 
"  Thank  you,  sir,"  and  retreated  to  her  own  room. 

Mr.  Murray  turned  to  his  mother  and  said  carelessly : 

"I  neglected  to  tell  you  that  I  heard  from  Clinton  to- 
day. He  has  invited  himself  to  spend  some  days  here,  and 
wrote  to  say  that  he  might  be  expected  next  week.  At 
least  his  visit  Avill  be  welcome  to  you,  Estelle,  and  I  con- 
gratulate you  on  the  prospect  of  adding  to  your  list  of  ad- 
mirers the  most  fastidious  exquisite  it  has  ever  been  my 
misfortune  to  encounter." 

"  St.  Elmo,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  mention  your 
father's  nephew  in  such  terms.  You  certainly  have  less  re- 
spect and  affection  for  your  relatives  than  any  man  I  ever 
saw." 

"Which  fact  is  entirely  attributable  to  my  thorough 
knowledge  of  their  characters.  I  have  generally  found  that 
high  appreciation  and  intimate  acquaintance  are  in  inverse 
ratios.  As  for  Clinton  Allston,  were  he  my  father's  son, 
instead  of  his  nephew,  I  imagine  my  flattering  estimate  of 
him  would  be  substantially  the  same.  Estelle,  do  you  know 
him  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  205 

UI  have  not  that  pleasure,  but  report  prepares  me  to 
find  him  extremely  agreeable.  I  am  rejoiced  at  the  pros- 
pect of  meeting  him.  Some  time  ago,  just  before  I  left 
Paris,  I  received  a  message  from  him,  challenging  me  to  a 
flirtation  at  sight  so  soon  as  an  opportunity  presented  it- 
self." 

"  For  your  sake,  Estelle,  I  am  glad  Clinton  is  coming, 
for  St.  Elmo  is  so  shamefully  selfish,  and  oblivious  of  his 
duties  as  host,  that  I  know  time  often  hangs  very  heavily 
on  your  hands." 

Mrs.  Murray  was  too  thoroughly  out  of  humor  to  heed 
the  dangerous  sparkle  in  her  son's  eyes. 

"  Very  true,  mother,  his  amiable  and  accommodating 
disposition  commends  him  strongly  to  your  aifection ;  and 
knowing  what  is  expected  of  him,  he  will  politely  declare 
himself  her  most  devoted  lover  before  he  has  been  thirty- 
six  hours  in  her  society.  Now,  if  she  can  accept  him  for  a 
husband,  and  you  will  only  consent  to  receive  him  as  your 
son,  I  swear  I  will  reserve  a  mere  scanty  annuity  for  my 
travelling  expenses  ;  I  will  gladly  divide  the  estate  between 
them,  and  transport  myself  permanently  and  joyfully  be- 
yond the  reach  of  animadversion  on  my  inherited  sweet- 
ness of  temper.  If  you,  my  dear  coz,  can  only  coax  Clinton 
into  this  arrangement  for  your  own  and  my  mother's  happi- 
ness, you  will  render  me  eternally  grateful,  and  smooth  the 
way  for  a  trip  to  Thibet  and  Siberia,  which  I  have  long 
contemplated.  Bear  this  proposition  in  mind,  will  you,  es- 
pecially when  the  charms  of  Le  Bocage  most  favorably  im- 
press you  ?  Remember  you  will  become  its  mistress  the 
day  that  you  marry  Clinton,  make  my  mother  adopt  him, 
and  release  me.  If  my  terms  are  not  sufficiently  liberal, 
confer  with  Clinton  as  soon  as  maidenly  propriety  will  pei*- 
mit,  and  acquaint  me  with  your  ultimatum  ;  for  I  am  so 
thoroughly  weary  and  disgusted  with  the  place  that  I  am 
anxious  to  get  away  on  almost  any  terms.  Here  come  the 
autorrats   of    the   neighbd  vhood,  the   nouveaux  cnrichis! 


206  ST.  ELMO. 

your  friends  the  Montgomeries  and  Hills,  than  whom  1 
would  sooner  shake  hands  with  the  Asiatic  plague  !     I  heai 
Madame  Montgomery  asking  if  I  am  not  at  home,  as  well 
as  the  ladies  !     Tell  her  I  am  in  Spitzbergen  or  Mantchoo 
ria,  where  I  certainly  intend  to  be  ere  long." 

As  the  visitors  approached  the  sitting-room,  he  sprang 
through  the  window  opening  on  the  terrace  and  disap- 
peared. 

The  contents  of  the  unexpected  letter  surprised  and  de- 
lighted Edna,  much  more  than  she  would  willingly  have 
confessed.  Mr.  Manning  wrote  that  upon  the  eve  of  leav- 
ing home  for  a  tour  of  some  weeks'  travel,  he  chanced  to 
stumble  upon  her  letter,  and  in  a  second  perusal  some  pecu- 
liarity of  style  induced  him  to  reconsider  the  oifer  it  con- 
tained, and  he  determined  to  permit  her  to  send  the  manu- 
script (as  far  as  written)  for  his  examination.  If  promptly 
forwarded,  it  would  reach  him  before  he  left  home,  and 
expedite  an  answer. 

Drawing  all  happy  auguries  from  this  second  letter,  and 
trembling  with  pleasure,  Edna  hastened  to  prepare  her 
manuscript  for  immediate  transmission.  Carefully  envelop- 
ing it  in  thick  paper,  she  sealed  and  directed  it,  then  fell  on 
her  knees,  and,  with  clasped  hands  resting  on  the  package, 
prayed  earnestly,  vehemently,  that  God's  blessing  would 
accompany  it,  would  crown  her  efforts  with  success. 

Afraid  to  trust  it  to  the  hand  of  a  servant,  she  put  on 
her  hat  and  walked  back  to  town. 

The  express  agent  gave  her  a  receipt  for  the  parcel,  as- 
sured her  that  it  would  be  forwarded  by  the  evening  tram, 
and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  she  turned  her  steps  homeward. 

Ah  !  it  was  a  frail  paper  bark,  freighted  with  the  noblest, 
purest  aspirations  that  ever  possessed  a  woman's  soul, 
launched  upon  the  tempestuous  sea  of  popular  favor,  with 
ambition  at  the  helm,  hope  for  a  compass,  and  the  gaunt 
spectre  of  failure  grinning  in  the  shrouds.  "Would  it  suc- 
cessfully weather  the  galea  of  malice,  envy,  and  detraction  ? 


ST.  ELMO.  207 

Would  it,  battle  valiantly  and  triumphantly  with  the  pirati- 
cal hordes  of  critics  who  prowl  hungrily  along  the  track 
over  which  it  must  sail?  "Would  it  h«come  a  melancholy 
wreck  on  the  mighty  ocean  of  literature,  or  would  it 
proudly  ride  at  anchor  in  the  harbor  c«f  immortality,  with 
her  name  floating  for  ever  at  the  masthead  ? 

It  was  an  experiment  that  had  stranded  the  hopes  of  hun- ' 
dreds  and  of  thousands ;  and  the  pinched,  starved  features 
of   Chatterton,   and  the   white,  pleading   face    of    Keats, 
stabbed    to   death  by  reviewers'  poisoned  pens,  rose  like 
friendly  phantoms  and  whispered  sepulchral  warnings. 

But  to-day  the  world  wore  only  rosy  garments,  unspotted 
by  shadows,  and  the  silvery  voice  of  youthful  enthusiasm 
sung  only  of  victory  and  spoils,  as  hope  gayly  struck  the 
cymbals  and  fingered  the  timbrels. 

When  Edna  returned  to  her  room,  she  sat  down  before 
her  desk  to  reperuse  the  letter  which  had  given  her  so  much 
gratification;  and,  as  she  refolded  it,  Mrs.  Murray  came 
in  and  closed  the  door  after  her. 

Her  face  was  stern  and  pale ;  she  walked  up  to  the  or- 
phan, looked  at  her  suspiciously,  and  when  she  spoke  her 
voice  was  hard  and  cold. 

"  I  wish  to  see  that  letter  which  you  received  to-day,  as 
it  is  very  improper  that  you  should,  without  my  knowledge, 
carry  on  a  correspondence  with  a  stranger.  I  would  not 
have  believed  that  you  could  be  guilty  of  such  conduct." 

"I  am  very  much  pained,  Mrs.  Murray,  that  you  should 
even  for  a  moment  have  supposed  that  I  had  forfeited  your 
confidence.  The  nature  of  the  correspondence  certainly  sanc- 
tions my  engaging  in  it,  even  without  consulting  you.  This 
letter  is  the  second  I  have  received  from  Mr.  Manning,  the 

editor  of Magazine,  and  was  written  in  answer  to  a 

request  of  mine,  with  reference  to  a  literary  matter  which 
concerns  nobody  but  myself.  I  will  show  you  the  signa- 
ture ;  there  it  is — Douglas  G.  Manning.  You  know  his  liter- 
ary reputation  and  his  high  position.    If  you  demand  it,  of 


203  ST.  ELMO 

course  I  can  not  refuse  to  allow  you  to  read  it ;  but,  deal 
Mrs.  Murray,  I  hope  you  will  not  insist  upon  it,  as  I  prefei 
that  no  one  should  see  the  contents,  at  least  at  present.  At 
I  have  never  deceived  you,  I  think  you  might  trust  me, 
when  I  assure  you  that  the  correspondence  is  entirely  re 
Btrieted  to  literary  subjects." 

"  Why,  then,  should  you  object  to  my  reading  it  ?" 

"  For  a  reason  which  I  will  explain  at  some  future  dayT  if 
you  will  only  have  confidence  in  me.  Still,  if  you  are  de- 
termined to  examine  the  letter,  of  course  I  must  submit, 
though  it  would  distress  me  exceedingly  to  know  that  you 
can  not,  or  will  not,  trust  me  in  so  small  a  matter." 

She  laid  the  open  letter  on  the  desk  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

Mrs.  Murray  took  up  the  sheet,  glanced  at  the  signature, 
and  said : 

"  Look  at  me ;  don't  hide  your  face,  that  argues  some- 
thing wrong." 

Edna  raised  her  head,  and  lifted  eyes  full  of  tears  to  meet 
the  scrutiny  from  which  there  was  no  escape. 

"Mr.  Manning's  signature  somewhat  reassures  me,  and 
beside,  I  never  knew  you  to  prevaricate  or  attempt  to  de- 
ceive me.  Your  habitual  truthfulness  encourages  me  to  be- 
lieve you,  and  I  will  not  insist  on  reading  this  letter,  though 
I  can  not  imagine  why  you  should  object  to  it.  But,  Edna, 
I  am  disappointed  in  you,  and  in  return  for  the  confidence 
I  have  always  reposed  in  you,  I  want  you  to  answer  can- 
didly the  question  I  am  about  to  ask.  "Why  did  you  refuse 
to  marry  Gordon  Leigh  ?" 

"  Because  I  did  not  love  him." 

"O  pooh!  that  seeme  incredible, for  he  is  handsome  and 
very  attractive,  and  some  young  ladies  show  very  plainly  that 
they  love  him,  though  they  have  never  been  requested  to  do 
so.  There  is  only  one  way  in  which  I  can  account  for  your 
refusal,  and  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  the  truth.  You  are 
unwilling  to  marry  Gordon  because  you  love  somebody  else 
better.     Child,  whom  do  you  love  ?" 


■ST.  ELMO.  209 

"  No,  indeed,  no  !  I  like  Mr.  Leigh  as  well  aa  Any  geu 
tleman  I  know  ;  butl  love  no  one  except  you  and  Mr.  Ham- 
mond." 

Mrs.  Murray  put  lier  hand  under  the  girl's  chin,  looked 
at  her  for  some  seconds,  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Child,  I  find  it  difficult  to  believe  you." 

"  Why,  whom  do  you  suppose  I  could  love  ?  Mr.  Leigh 
is  certainly  more  agreeable  than  any  body  else  I  know." 

"  But  girls  sometimes  take  strange  whims  in  these  mat- 
ters. Do  you  ever  expect  to  receive  a  better  offer  than  Mr. 
Leigh's  ?" 

"  As  far  as  fortune  is  concerned,  I  presume  I  never  shall 
have  so  good  an  opportunity  again.  But,  Mrs.  Murray,  I 
would  rather  marry  a  poor  man,  whom  I  really  loved,  and 
who  had  to  earn  his  daily  bread  than'  to  be  Mr.  Leigh's 
wife  and  own  that  beautiful  house  he  is  building.  I  know 
you  wish  me  to  accept  him,  and  that  you  think  me  very 
unwise,  very  short-sighted;  but  it  is  a  question  which  I 
have  settled  after  consulting  my  conscience  and  my  heart." 

"And  you  give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  you  love  no 
other  gentleman  better  than  Gordon  ?" 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Murray,  I  assure  you  that  I  do  not." 

As  the  mistress  of  the  house  looked  down  into  the  girl's 
beautiful  face,  and  passed  her  hand  tenderly  over  the  thick, 
glossy  folds  of  hair  that  crowned  the  pure  brow,  she  won- 
dered if  it  were  possible  that  her  son  could  ever  regard  the 
orphan  with  affection ;  and  she  asked  her  own  heart  why 
she  could  not  willingly  receive  her  as  a  daughter. 

Mrs.  Murray  believed  that  she  entertained  a  sincere 
friendship  for  Mrs.  Inge,  and  yet  she  had  earnestly  endeav- 
ored to  marry  her  brother  to  a  girl  whom  she  could  not 
consent  to  see  the  wife  of  her  own  son.  Verily,  when  hu- 
man friendships  are  analyzed,  it  seems  a  mere  poetic  fiction 
that — 

"  Loye  took  up  the  harp  of  Life,  and  smote  on  all  the  chords  with 

might  ; 
Smrats  the  chord  of  Self,  that,  trembling,  passed  in  music  out  of  sight.* 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


1STE  afternoon,  about  ten  days  after  the  receipt  of 
Mr.  Manning's  letter,  when  Edna  returned  from 
the  parsonage,  she  found  the  family  assembled 
on  the  front  verandah,  and  saw  that  the  expected 
visitor  had  arrived.  As  Mrs.  Murray  introduced  her  to 
Mr.  Allston,  the  latter  rose,  advanced  a  few  steps,  and  held 
out  his  hand.  Edna  was  in  the  act  of  giving  him  hers, 
when  the  heart-shaped  diamond  cluster  on  his  finger  flashed, 
and  one  swift  glance  at  his  face  and  figure  made  her  snatch 
away  her  hand  ere  it  touched  his,  and  draw  back  with  a 
half-smothered  exclamation. 

He  bit  his  lip,  looked  inquiringly  around  the  circle, 
smiled,  and  returning  to  his  seat  beside  Estelle,  resumed  the 
gay  conversation  in  which  he  had  been  engaged. 

Mrs.  Murray  was  leaning  over  the  iron  balustrade,  twin- 
ing a  wreath  of  multiflora  around  one  of  the  fluted  columns, 
and  did  not  witness  the  brief  pantomime  ;  but  when  she 
-ooked  around  she  could  not  avoid  remarking  the  unwonted 
pallor  and  troubled  expression  of  the  girl's  face. 

"  "What  is  the  matter,  child  ?  You  look  as  if  you  wert, 
either  ill  or  dreadfully  fatigued." 

"I  am  tired,  thank  you,"  was  the  rather  abstracted  reply, 
and  she  walked  into  the  house  and  sat  down  before  the 
oper.  window  in  the  library. 

The  sun  had  just  gone  down  behind  a  fleecy  cloud-moun- 
tain and  kindled  a  volcano,  from  whose  silver-rimmed  crater 
fiery  rays  of  scarlet  shot  up,  almost  to  the  clear  blue  zenith ; 


ST.  ELMO.  211 

while  here  and  there,  through  clefts  and  vapory  gorges,  the 
lurid  lava  light  streamed  down  toward  the  horizon. 

Vacantly  her  eyes  rested  on  this  sky-Hecla,  and  its  splen« 
dor  passed  away  unheeded,  for  she  was  looking  far  beyond 
the  western  gates  of  day,  and  saw  a  pool  of  blood — a  ghastly 
face  turned  up  to  the  sky — a  coffined  corpse  strewn  with 
white  poppies  and  rosemary — a  wan,  dying  woman,  whose 
waving  hair  braided  the  pillow  with  gold — a  wide,  deep 
grave  under  the  rustling  chestnuts  from  whose  green  arches 
rang  the  despairing  wail  of  a  broken  heart : 

"  O  Harry !  my  husband !" 

Imagination  travelling  into  the  past,  painted  two  sunny- 
haired,  prattling  babes,  suddenly  smitten  with  orphanage, 
and  robed  in  mourning  garments  for  parents  whose  fond, 
watchful  eyes  were  closed  forever  under  wild  clover  and 
trailing  brambles.  Absorbed  in  retrospection  of  that  June 
day,  when  she  stood  by  the  spring,  and  watched 

"  God  make  himself  an  awful  rose  of  dawn," 
she  sat  with  her  head  resting  against  the  window-facing, 
and  was  not  aware  of  Mr.  Murray's   entrance    until   his 
harsh,  querulous  voice  startled  her. 

"  Edna  Earl !  what  apology  have  you  to  offer  for  insult- 
ing a  relative  and  guest  of  mine  under  my  roof?" 

"  None,  sir." 

"  What !  How  dare  you  treat  with  unparalleled  rude- 
ness a  visitor,  whose  claim  upon  the  courtesy  and  hospi- 
tality of  this  household  is  certainly  more  legitimate  and 
easily  recognized  than  that  of " 

He  stopped  and  kicked  out  of  his  way  a  stool  upon  which 
Edna's  feet  had  been  resting.  She  had  risen,  and  they 
stood  face  to  face. 

"  I  am  waiting  to  hear  the  remainder  of  your  sentence, 
Mr.  Murray." 

He  uttered  an  oath  and  hurled  his  cigar  through  the 
window. 

"  Why  the  d — I  did  you  refuse  to  shake  hands  with  All- 


212  8T.  ELMO. 

ston  ?  I  intend  to  know  the  truth,  and  it  may  pttve  an 
economy  of  trouble  for  you  to  speak  it  at  once." 

"  If  you  demand  my  reasons,  you  must  not  be  offended  at 
the  plainness  of  my  language.  Your  cousin  is  a  murderer, 
and  ought  to  be  hung !  I  could  not  force  myself  to  touch 
a  hand  all  smeared  with  blood." 

Mr.  Murray  leaned  down  and  looked  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  are  either  delirious  or  utterly  mistaken  with  refer- 
ence to  the  identity  of  the  man.  Clinton  is  no  more  guilty 
of  murder  than  you  are,  and  I  have  been  led  to  suppose 
that  you  are  rather  too  '  pious'  to  attempt  the  role  of  Mar- 
guerite de  Brinvilliers  or  Joanna  of  Hainault !  Cufic  lore 
has  turned  your  brain ;  '  too  much  learning  hath  made  thee 
mad.'  " 

"  No,  sir,  it  is  no  hallucination  ;  there  can  be  no  mistake  ; 
it  is  a  horrible,  awful  fact,  which  I  witnessed,  which  is 
burned  on  my  memory,  and  which  will  haunt  my  brain  as 
long  as  I  live.  I  saw  him  shoot  Mr.  Dent,  and  heard  all 
that  passed  on  that  dreadful  morning.  He  is  doubly  crim- 
inal— is  as  much  the  murderer  of  Mrs.  Dent  as  of  her  hus- 
band, for  the  shock  killed  her.  Oh !  that  I  could  forget  her 
look  and  scream  of  agony  as  she  fainted  oyer  her  husband's 
coffin  !  " 

A  puzzled  expression  crossed  Mr.  Murray's  face ;  then  he 
muttered  : 

"  Dent  ?  Dent  ?  Ah !  yes ;  that  was  the  name  of  the  man 
whom  Clinton  killed  in  a  duel.  Pshaw !  you  have  whipped 
up  a  syllabub  storm  in  a  tea-cup !  Allston  only  took  '  sat- 
isfaction' for  an  insult  offered  publicly  by  Dent." 

His  tone  was  sneering  and  his  lip  curled,  but  a  strange 
pallor  crept  from  chin  to  temples ;  and  a  savage  glare  in  his 
eyes,  and  a  thickening  scowl  that  bent  his  brows  till  they 
met,  told  of  the  brewing  of  no  slight  tempest  of  passion. 

"I  know,  sir,  that  custom,  public  opinion,  sanctions — at 
least  tolerates  that  relic  of  barbarous  ages — that  blot  upon 
Christian  civilization  which,  under  the  name  of  '  dueling,' 


ST.  ELMkI.  213 

I  recognize  as  a  crime  ;  a  heinous  crime  w.rich  I  abtoi  and 
detest  above  all  other  crimes!  Sir,  I  call  things  by  their 
proper  names,  stripped  of  the  glozing  drapery  of  conven- 
tional usage.  You  say  '  honorable  satisfaction ;'  I  say 
murder !  aggravated,  unpardonable  murder ;  murder  with- 
out even  the  poor  palliation  of  the  sudden  heat  of  anger. 
Cool,  deliberate,  wilful  murder,  that  stabs  the  happiness  of 
wives  and  children,  and  for  which  it  would  seem  that  even 
the  infinite  mercy  of  Almighty  God  could  scarcely  accord 
forgiveness  !  Oh  !  save  me  from  the  presence  of  that  man 
who  can  derive  '  satisfaction '  from  the  reflection  that  he 
has  laid  Henry  and  Helen  Dent  in  one  grave,  under  the 
quiet  shadow  of  Lookout,  and  brought  desolation  and  or- 
phanage to  their  two  innocent,  tender  darlings !  Shake 
hands  with  Clinton  Allston  ?  I  would  sooner  stretch  out  my 
fingers  to  clasp  those  of  Gardiner,  reeking  with  the  blood 
of  his  victims,  or  those  of  Ravaillac !  Ah !  well  might 
Dante  shudder  in  painting  the  chilling  horrors  of  Caina." 

The  room  was  dusky  with  the  shadow  of  coming  night ; 
^ut  the  fading  flush,  low  in  the  west,  showed  St.  Elmo's  face 
colorless,  rigid,  repulsive  in  its  wrathful  defiance. 

He  bent  forward,  seized  her  hands,  folded  them  together, 
and  grasping  them  in  both  his,  crushed  them  against  his 
breast. 

"  Ha !  I  knew  that  hell  and  heaven  were  leagued  to  poi- 
son your  mind !  That  your  childish  conscience  was  fright- 
ened by  tales  of  horror,  and  your  imagination  harroAyed  up, 
your  heart  lacerated  by  the  cunning  devices  of  that  arch 
maudlin  old  hypocrite !  The  seeds  of  clerical  hate  fell  in 
good  ground,  and  I  see  a  bountiful  harvest  nodding  for  my 
sickle  !  Oh !  you  are  more  pliable  than  I  had  fancied  !  You 
have  been  thoroughly  trained  down  yonder  at  the  parson- 
age.    But  I  will  be " 

There  was  a  trembling  pant  in  his  voice  like  that  of  some 
wild-  creature  driven  from  its  jungle,  hopeless  of  escape, 
holding  its  hunters  temporarily  at  bay,  waiting  for  death. 


214:  ST.  ELMO. 

The  girl's  hands  ached  in  his  unyielding  grasp,  atd  aftei 
two  ineffectual  efforts  to  free  them,  a  sigh  of  pain  passed 
her  lips  and  she  said  proudly: 

"  No,  sir ;  my  detestation  of  that  form  of  legalized  mur- 
der, politely  called  '  dueling,'  was  not  taught  me  at  the 
,  parsonage.  I  learned  it  in  my  early  childhood,  before  I 
ever  saw  Mr.  Hammond ;  and  though  I  doubt  not  he  agrees 
with  me  in  my  abhorrence  of  the  custom,  I  have  never 
heard  him  mention  the  subject." 

"  Hypocrite !  hypocrite !  Meek  little  wolf  in  lamb's 
wool !  Do  you  dream  that  you  can  deceive  me  ?  Do  you 
think  me  an  idiot,  to  be  cajoled  by  your  low-spoken  denials 
of  a  fact  which  I  know  ?  A  fact,  to  the  truth  of  which  I 
will  swear  till  every  star  falls  !  " 

"  Mr.  Murray,  I  never  deceived  you,  and  I  know  that 
however  incensed  you  may  be,  however  harsh  and  unjust, 
I  know  that  in  your  heart  you  do  not  doubt  my  truthful- 
ness. Why  you  invariably  denounce  Mr.  Hammond  when 
you  happen  to  be  displeased  with  me,  I  can  not  conjecture  ; 
but  I  tell  you  solemnly  that  he  has  never  even  indirectly 
alluded  to  the  question  of  'duelling'  since  I  have  known 
him.  Mr.  Murray,  I  know  you  do  entirely  believe  me 
when  I  utter  these  words." 

A  tinge  of  red  leaped  into  his  cheek,  something  that 
would  have  been  called  hope  in  any  other  man's  eyes  look- 
ed out  shyly  from  under  his  heavy  black  lashes,  and  a 
tremor  shook  off  the  sneering  curl  of  his  bloodless  lips. 

Drawing  her  so  close  to  him  that  his  hair  touched  her 
forehead,  he  whispered : 

"  If  I  believe  in  you  my — it  is  in  defiance  of  judgment, 
will,  and  experience,  and  some  day  you  will  make  me  pay 
a  most  humiliating  penalty  for  my  momentary  weakness. 
To-night  I  trust  you  as  implicitly  as  Samson  did  the  smooth- 
lipped  Delilah;  to-morrow  I  shall  realize  that,  like  him,  I 
richly  deserve  to  be  shorn  for  my  silly  credulity." 

He  threw  her  hands  rudely  from  him.  turned  hastily  and 
left  the  library. 


ST.  ELMO.  215 

Edna  sat  down  and  covered  her  faae  with  her  bruised 
and  benumbed  fingers,  but  she  could  not  shut  out  the  sight 
of  something  that  astonished  and  frightened  her — of  some- 
thing that  made  her  shudder  from  head  to  foot,  and  croucn 
down  in  her  chair  cowed  and  humiliated.  Hitherto  she  had 
fancied  that  she  thoroughly  understood  and  sternly- governed 
her  heart — that  conscience  and  reason  ruled  it ;  but  within 
the  past  hour  it  had  suddenly  risen  in  dangerous  rebellion, 
thrown  off  its  allegiance  to  all  things  else,  and  insolently 
proclaimed  St.  Elmo  Murray  its  king.  She  could  not  ana- 
lyze her  new  feelings,  they  would  not  obey  the  summons  to 
the  tribunal  of  her  outraged  self-respect ;  and  with  bitter 
shame  and  reproach  and  abject  contrition,  she  realized  that 
she  had  begun  to  love  the  sinful,  blasphemous  man  who  had 
insulted  her  revered  grandfather,  and  who  barely  tolerated 
her  presence  in  his  house. 

This  danger  had  never  once  occurred  to  her,  for  she  had 
always  believed  that  love  could  only  exist  where  high  es- 
teem and  unbounded  reverence  prepared  the  soil ;  and  she 
was  well  aware  that  this  man's  character  had  from  the  first 
hour  of  their  acquaintance  excited  her  aversion  and  dread. 
Ten  days  before  she  had  positively  disliked  and  feared  him ; 
now,  to  her  amazement,  she  found  him  throned  in  her 
heart,  defying  ejection.  The  sudden  revulsion  bewildered 
and  mortified  her,  and  she  resolved  to  crush  out  the  feeling 
at  once,  cost  what  it  might.  When  Mrs.  Murray  had  asked 
if  she  loved  any  one  else  better  than  Mr.  Leigh,  she  thought, 
nay  she  knew,  she  answered  truly  in  the  negative.  But 
now  when  she  attempted  to  compare  the  two  men,  such  a 
strange,  yearning  tenderness  pleaded  for  St.  Elmo,  and  pal- 
liated his  grave  faults,  that  the  girl's  self-accusing  severity 
wrung  a  groan  from  the  very  depths  of  her  soul. 

When  the  sad  discovery  was  first  made,  conscience  lifted 
its  hands  in  horror,  because  of  the  man's  reckless  wicked- 
ness ;  but  after  a  little  while  a  still  louder  clamor  was 
raised  by  womanly  pride,  which  bled  at  the  thought  of  tol- 


216  ST.  ELMO, 

erating  a  love  unsought,  unvalued;  and  with  this  fieicc 
rush  of  reenforcements  to  aid  conscience,  the  insurgent 
heart  seemed  destined  to  summary  subjugation.  Until  this 
hour,  although  conscious  of  many  faults,  she  had  not  sup- 
posed that  there  was  any  thing  especially  contemptible  in 
her  character ;  but  now  the  feeling  of  self-abasement  was 
unutterably  galling.  She  despised  herself  most  cordially, 
and  the  consistent  dignity  of  life  which  she  had  striven  to 
attain  appeared  hopelessly  shattered. 

While  the  battle  of  reason  versus  love  was  at  its  height, 
Mrs.  Murray  put  her  head  in  the  room  and  asked  : 

"  Edna  !     Where  are  you,  Edna  ?" 

"  Here  I  am." 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  in  the  dark  ?  I  have  searched  the 
house  for  you." 

She  groped  her  way  across  the  room,  lighted  the  gas,  and 
came  to  the  window. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child  ?     Are  you  sick  ?" 

"  I  think  something  must  be  the  matter,  for  I  do  not  feel 
at  all  like  myself,"  stammered  the  orphan,  as  she  hid  her 
face  on  the  window-sill. 

"  Does  your  head  ache  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am." 

She  might  have  said  very  truly  that  her  heart  did.  ■ 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  let  me  feel  your  pulse.  It  is  very 
quick,  but  shows  nervous  excitement  rather  than  fever 
Child,  let  me  see  your  tongue,  I  hear  there  are  some  typhoid 
cases  in  the  neighborhood.  Why,  how  hot  your  cheeks 
are !" 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  up  and  bathe  them,  and  -perhaps  I  shall 
feel  better." 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  into  the  parlor  as  soon  as  you 
can,  for  Estelle  says  Clinton  thought  you  were  very  rude 
to  him ;  and  though  I  apologized  on  the  score  of  indisposi 
tion,  I  prefer  that  you  should  make  your  appearance  this 
evening.     Stop,  you  have  dropped  your  handkerchief." 


ST.  ELMO.  217 

Edna  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  saw  Mr.  Murray's  name 
printed  in  one  corner,  and  her  first  impulse  was  to  thrust 
it  into  her  pocket;  but  instantly  she  held  it  toward  his 
mother. 

"  It  is  not  mine,  but  your  son's.  He  was  here  about  an 
hour  ago  and  must  have  dropped  it." 

"  I  thought  he  had  gone  out  over  the  grounds  with  Clin- 
ton.    What  brought  him  here  ?" 

"  He  came  to  scold  me  for  not  shaking  hands  with  his 
cousin." 

"  Indeed !  you  must  have  been  singularly  rude  if  he 
noticed  any  want  of  courtesy.  Change  your  dress  and  come 
down." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Edna  bathed  her  hot  face  and  pressed 
her  cold  hands  to  her  cheeks.  She  felt  as  if  all  curious  eyes 
read  her  troubled  heart.  She  was  ashamed  to  meet  the 
family — above  all  things  to  see  Mr.  Murray.  Heretofore 
she  had  shunned|him  from  dislike ;  now  she  wished  to  avoid 
him  because  she  began  to  feel  that  she  loved  him,  and  be- 
cause she  dreaded  that  his  inquisitorial  eyes  would  discover 
the  contemptible,  and,  in  her  estimation,  unwomanly  weak- 
ness. 

Taking  the  basket  which  contained  her  sewing  utensils 
and  a  piece  of  light  needle-work,  she  went  into  the  parlor 
and  seated  herself  near  the  centre-table,  over  which  swung 
the  chandelier. 

Mr.  Murray  and  his  mother  were  sitting  on  a  sofa,  the 
former  engaged  in  cutting  the  leaves  of  a  new  book,  and 
Estelle  Harding  was  describing  in  glowing  terms  a  scene 
in  "  FhMre?  which  owed  its  charm  she  thought  to  Rachel's 
marvellous  acting.     As  she  repeated  the  soliloquy  beginning, 

"  0  toi,  qui  voia  la  honte  ou  je  suis  descendue, 
Implacable  Venus,  suis-je  assez  confondue !" 

Edua  felt  as  if  her  own  great  weakness  were  known  to 


218  ST.  ELMO. 

the  world,  and  she  bent  her  face  clo&e  to  her  basket  and 
tumbled  the  contents  into  inextricable  confusion. 

To-night  Estelle  seemed  in  unusually  fine  spirits,  and  talk- 
ed on  rapidly,  till  St.  Elmo  suddenly  appeared  to  become 
aware  of  the  import  of  her  words,  and  in  a  few  trenchant 
sentences  he  refuted  the  criticism  on  Phedre,  advising  hia 
cousin  to  confine  her  comments  to  dramas  with  which  she 
was  better  acquainted . 

His  tone  and  manner  surprised  Mr.  Allston,  who  re- 
marked : 

"  Were  I  Czar,  I  would  issue  a  ukase,  chaining  you  to  the 
steepest  rock  on  the  crest  of  Mount  Byelucha  till  you  learn- 
ed the  courtesy  due  to  lady  disputants.  Upon  my  word, 
St.  Elmo,  you  assault  Miss  Estelle  with  as  much  elan  as  if 
you  were  carrying  a  redoubt.  One  would  suppose  that  you 
had  been  in  good  society  long  enough  to  discover  that  the 
fortiter  in  re  style  is  not  allowable  in  discussions  with 
ladies." 

"  When  women  put  on  boxing-gloves  and  show  their  faces 
in  the  ring,  they  challenge  rough  handling,  and  are  rarely 
disappointed.  I  am  sick  of  sciolism,  especially  that  phase 
where  it  crops  out  in  shallow  criticism,  and  every  day  some- 
thing recalls  the  reprimand  of  Apelles  to  the  shoemaker.  If 
a  worthy  and  able  literary  tribunal  and  critical  code  could 
be  established,  it  would  be  well  to  revive  an  ancient  Locrian 
custom,  which  required  that  the  originators  of  new  laws  or 
propositions  should  be  brought  befoi*e  the  assembled  wis- 
dom,with  halters  round  their  necks,  ready  for  speedy  execu- 
tion if  the  innovation  proved,  on  examination,  to  be  utterly 
unsound  or  puerile.  Ah !  what  a  wholesale  hanging  of 
sciolists  would  gladden  my  eyes !" 

Mr.  Murray  bowed  to  his  cousin  as  he  spoke,  and  rising, 
took  his  favorite  position  on  the  rug. 

"Really,  Aunt  Ellen,  I  would  advise  you  to  have  him 
re-christened,  under  the  name  of  Timon,"  said  Mr.  Allston. 

"  No,  no.    I  decidedly  object  to  any  such  gratification  of 


ST.  KLMO.  219 

his  would-be  classic  freaks  ;  and,  as  he  is  evidently  aping 
Timon,  though,  unfortunately,  nature  denied  him  the  Attic 
salt  requisite  to  flavor  the  character,  I  would  suggest,  as  a 
more  suitable  sobriquet,  that  bestowed  on  Louis  X.,  '  L$ 
Hutin  ' — freely  translated,  '  The  Quarrelsome  ! '  What  sa\ 
you,  St.  Elmo  ?" 

Estelle  walked  up  to  her  cousin  and  stood  at  his  side. 

"  That  it  is  very  bad  policy  to  borrow  one's  boxing- 
gloves  ;  and  I  happened  to  overhear  Edna  Earl  when  she 
made  that  same  suggestion  to  Gordon  Leigh,  with  reference 
to  my  amiable  temperament.  However,  there  is  a  maxim 
which  will  cover  your  retreat,  and  which  you  can  conscien- 
tiously utter  with  much  emphasis,  if  your  memory  is  only 
as  good  in  repeating  all  the  things  you  may  have  heard. 
Pereant  qui  ante  nos  nostra  dixerunt !    Shall  I  translate  ?" 

She  laughed  lightly,  and  answered  : 

"  So  much  for  eavesdropping  !  Of  all  the  gentlemen  of 
my  acquaintance,  I  should  fancy  you  were  the  very  last 
who  could  afford  to  indulge  in  that  amusement." 

"Miss  Estelle,  is  this  your  first,  second,  or  third  Punic 
war  ?  You  and  St.  Elmo,  or  rather,  my  cousin  '  The  Quar- 
relsome,' seem  to  wage  it  in  genuine  Carthaginian  style." 

"  I  never  signed  a  treaty,  sir,  and,  consequently,  keep  no 
records." 

"  Clinton,  there  is  a  chronic  casus  belli  between  us,  the 
original  spring  of  which  antedates  my  memory.  But  at 
present  Estelle  is  directing  all  her  genius  and  energy  to 
effect,  for  my  individual  benefit,  a  practical  reenactraent  of 
the  old  Papia  Poppcea,  which  Augustus  hurled  at  the 
heads  of  all  peaceful,  happy  bachelordom  !" 

For  the  first  time  during  the  conversation  Edna  glanced 
up  at  Estelle,  for,  much  as  she  disliked  her,  she  regretted 
this  thrust ;  but  her  pity  was  utterly  wasted,  and  she  waa 
surprised  to  find  her  countenance  calm  and  smiling. 

Mr.  Allston  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  Mrs.  Murray 
exclaimed : 


220  ST.  ELMO. 

"  I  sound  a  ti*uce  !  For  heaven's  sake,  St.  Elmc  lock  up 
your  learning  with  your  mummies,  and  when  you  will  say 
barbarous  things,  use  language  that  will  enable  us  to  under- 
stand that  we  are  being  snubbed.  Now  who  do  you  sup- 
pose  compifjhends  '  Papia  Poppsea  '  ?  Tou  are  insufferably 
pedantic  !" 

"  My  dear  mother,  do  you  remember  ever  to  have  read 
or  heard  the  celebrated  reply  of  a  certain  urbane  lexicog 
rapher  to  the  rashly  ambitious  individual  who  attempted 
to  find  fault  with  his  dictionary  ?  Permit  me,  most  respect- 
fully, to  offer  it  for  your  consideration.  'I  am  bound  to 
furnish  good  definitions,  but  not  brains  to  comprehend 
them.'  " 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  you  had  spent  some  time  in 
China  ?"  said  Miss  Harding. 

"  So  I  did,  and  learned  to  read  the  i  Liki.'  " 

"  I  was  laboring  under  the  misapprehension   that  even 
strangers  visiting  that   country  caught  the  contagion  of 
filial  respect,  of  reverence  for  parents,  which  is  there  incul 
cated  by  law." 

"  Among  Chinese  maxims  is  one  to  this  effect :  '  All  per- 
sons are  alike,  and  the  only  difference  is  in  the  education.' 
Now,  as  you  and  I  were  raised  in  the  same  nursery,  what 
becomes  of  your  veneration  for  Chinese  canons  ?" 

"  I  think,  sir,  that  it  is  a  very  great  misfortune  for  those 
who  have  to  associate  with  you  now  that  you  were  not 
raised  in  Sparta,  where  it  was  every  body's  privilege  to 
whip  their  neighbor's  vicious,  spoiled  children  !  Such  a 
regimen  would  doubtless  have  converted  you  into  an  amia- 
ble, or  at  least  endurable  member  of  society." 

"  That  is  problematical,  my  fair  cousin,  for  if  my  provo- 
cative playmate  had  accompanied  me,  I'll  be  sworn  but  I 
think  the  supply  of  Spartan  birch  would  have  utterly  failed 
to  sweeten  my  temper.  I  should  have  shared  the  fate  of 
those  unfortunate  boys  who  were  whipped  to  death  in  La- 
cedsemon,  in  honor  of  Diana;  said  whipping-festival  (I  here 


ST.  ELMO.  221 

remark  parenthetically,  for  my  mother's  enjoyment)  being 
known  in  classic  parlance  as  Diamastigosis  /" 

His  mother  answered  laughingly  : 

"  Estelle  is  quite  right ;  you  contrived  to  grow  up  with- 
out the  necessary  and  healthful  quota  of  sound  whipping 
which  you  richly  deserved." 

Mr.  Murray  did  not  seem  to  hear  her  words;  he  was" 
looking  down  intently,  smilingly  into  his  cousin's  handsome 
face,  and,  passing  his  arm  around  her  waist,  drew  her  close 
to  his  side.  He  murmured  something  that  made  her  throw 
her  head  quickly  back  against  his  shoulder  and  look  up  at 
him. 

"  If  such  is  the  end  of  all  your  quarrels,  it  offers  a  pre- 
mium for  unamiability,"  said  Mr.  Allston,  who  had  been 
studying  Edna's  face,  and  now  turned  again  to  his  cousin. 
Curling  the  end  of  his  moustache,  he  continued  : 

"  St.  Elmo,  you  have  travelled  more  extensively  than  any 
one  I  know,  and  under  peculiarly  favorable  circumstances. 
Of  all  the  spots  you  have  visited,  which  would  you  pro- 
nounce the  most  desirable  for  a  permanent  residence  ?" 

"  Have  you  an  idea  of  expatriating  yourself — of  '  quitting 
your  country  for  your  country's  good '  ?" 

"  One  never  knows  what  contingencies  may  arise,  and  I 
should  like  to  avail  myself  of  your  knowledge  ;  for  I  feel 
assured  only  very  charming  places  would  have  detained 
you  long." 

"  Then,  were  I  at  liberty  to  select  a  home,  tranquil, 
blessed  beyond  all  expression,  I  should  certainly  lose  no  time 
in  domesticating  myself  in  the  Peninsula  of  Mount  Athos." 

"  Ah  !  yes  ;  the  scenery  all  along  that  coast  is  described 
as  surprisingly  beautiful  and  picturesque." 

"  O  bah !  the  scenery  is  quite  as  grand  in  fifty  other 
places.  Its  peculiar  attraction  consists  in  something  far 
more  precious." 

"  To  what  do  you  refer  ?" 

"  Its  marvelous  and  bewildering  charm  is  to  be  found 


222  ST.  ELMO. 

entirely  in  the  fact  that,  since  the  days  of  Constantine,  na 
woman  has  set  foot  on  its  peaceful  soil ;  and  the  happy 
dwellers  in  that  sole  remaining  earthly  Eden  are  so  vigi 
lant,  dreading  the  entrance  of  another  Eve,  that  no  female 
animal  is  permitted  to  intrude  upon  the  sacred  precincts  ! 
The  embargo  extends  even  to  cats,  cows,  dogs,  lest  the  in- 
nate female  proclivity  to  make  mischief  should  be  found 
dangerous  in  the  brute  creation.  Constantine  lived  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  third  and  beginning  of  the  fourth  century. 
Think  of  the  divine  repose,  the  unapproachable  beatifica- 
tion of  residing  in  a  land  where  no  woman  has  even  peeped 
for  fifteen  hundred  years  !" 

"  May  all  good  angels  help  me  to  steer  as  far  as  possible 
from  such  a  nest  of  cynics !  I  would  sooner  confront  an 
army  of  Amazons  headed  by  Penthesilea  herself,  than  trust 
myself  among  a  people  unhumanized  and  uncivilized  by  the 
refining  influence  and  companionship  of  women  !  St.  Elmo, 
you  are  the  most  abominable  misogamist  I  ever  met,  and 
you  deserve  to  fall  into  the  clutches  of  those  '  eight  mighty 
daughters  of  the  plow,'  to  which  Tennyson's  Princess 
consigned  the  Prince.     Most  heartily  I  pity  you  !" 

"  For  shame,  St.  Elmo !  A  stranger  listening  to  your 
gallant  diatribe,  would  inevitably  conclude  that  your  mother 
was  as  unnatural  and  unamiable  as  Lord  Byron's;  and  that 
I,  your  most  devoted,  meek,  and  loving  cousin,  was  quite 
as  angelic  as  Miss  Edgeworth's  Modern  Griselda  !" 

Affecting  great  indignation,  Estelle  attempted  to  quit  his 
side  ;  but,  tightening  his  arm,  Mr.  Murray  bowed  and  re- 
sumed : 

"  Had  your  imaginary  stranger  ever  heard  of  the  science 
of  logic,  or  even  dreamed  of  Whately  or  Mill,  the  conclu- 
sion would,  as  you  say,  be  inevitable.  More  fortunate  than 
Rasselas,  I  found  a  happy  spot  where  the  names  of  women 
are  never  called,  where  the  myths  of  Ate  and  Pandora  are 
forgotten,  and  where  the  only  females  that  have  successfully 
run  the  rigid  blockade  are  the  tormenting  fleas,  that  wage 


ST.  ELMO.  223 

a  ceaseless  war  with  the  unoffending  men,  an  I  justify  theii 
nervous  horror  lest  any  other  creature  of  the  same  sex 
should  smuggle  herself  into  their  blissful  retreat.  I  have 
seen  crowned  heads,  statesmen,  great  military  chieftains, 
and  geniuses,  whose  names  are  destined  to  immortality; 
but  standing  here,  reviewing  my  certainly  extended  ac- 
quaintance, I  swear  1  envy  above  all  others  that  handsome 
monk  whom  Curzon  fcund  at  Simopetra,  who  had  never 
seen  a  woman !  He  was  transplanted  to  the  Holy  Moun- 
tain while  a  mere  infant,  and  though  assured  he  had  had  a 
mother,  he  accepted  the  statement  with  the  same  blind  faith, 
which  was  required  for  some  of  the  religious  dogmas  he  was 
called  on  to  swallow.  I  have  frequently  wondered  whether 
the  ghost  of  poor  Socrates  would  not  be  allowed,  in  con- 
sideration of  his  past  sufferings  and  trials,  to  wander  for- 
ever in  that  peaceful  realm  where  even  female  ghosts  are 
tabooed." 

"  There  is  some  terrible  retribution  in  store  for  your 
libels  on  our  sex  !  How  I  do  long  to  meet  some  woman 
brave  and  wily  enough  to  marry  and  tame  you,  my  chival- 
ric  cousin !  to  revenge  the  insults  you  have  heaped  upon 
her  sisterhood !" 

"  By  fully  establishing  the  correctness  of  my  estimate  of 
their  amiability?  That  were  dire  punishment  indeed  foi 
what  you  deem  my  heresies.  If  I  could  realize  the  possi- 
bility of  such  a  calamity,  I  should  certainly  bewail  my  fate 
in  the  mournful  words  of  that  most  astute  of  female  wits, 
who  is  reported  to  have  exclaimed,  in  considering  the  an- 
gelic idiosyncrasies  of  her  gentle  sisterhood,  '  The  only 
thought  which  can  reconcile  me  to  being  a  woman  is  that 
I  shall  not  have  to  marry  one  !' " 

The  expression  with  which  Mr.  Murray  regarded  Estelle 
reminded  Edna  of  the  account  given  by  a  traveller  of  the 
playful  mood  of  a  lion,  who,  having  devoured  one  gazelle, 
kept  his  paw  on  another,  and  amid  occasional  growls,  teased 
and  toyed  with  his  victim. 


224  ST.  ELMO. 

As  the  orphan  sat  bending  over  her  work  listening  to  the 
conversation,  she  asked  herself  scornfully  : 

"  What  hallucination  has  seized  me  ?  The  man  is  a 
mocking  devil,  unworthy  the  respect  or  toleration  of  any 
Christian  woman.  What  redeeming  trait  can  even  my  par- 
tial eyes  discover  in  his  distorted,  sinful  nature  ?  Not  one. 
No,  not  one  !" 

She  was  rejoiced  when  he  uttered  a  sarcasm  or  an  opin- 
ion that  shocked  her,  for  she  hoped  that  his  irony  would 
cauterize  what  she  considered  a  cancerous  spot  in  her  heart. 

"  Edna,  as  you  are  not  well,  I  advise  you  to  put  aside 
that  embroidery,  which  must  try  your  eyes  very  severely," 
said  Mrs.  Murray. 

She  folded  up  the  piece  of  cambric  and  was  putting  it  in 
her  basket,  when  Mr.  Allston  asked  with  more  effrontery 
than  the  orphan  was  prepared  for  : 

"  Miss  Earl,  have  I  not  seen  you  before  to-day  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  May  I  ask  where  ?" 

"  In  a  chestnut  grove,  where  you  shot  Mr.  Dent." 

"  Indeed  !  Did  you  witness  that  affair  ?  It  happened 
many  years  ago." 

There  was  not  a  shadow  of  pain  or  regret  in  his  coun- 
tenance or  tone,  and  rising,  Edna  said  with  unmistakable 
emphasis  : 

"  I  saw  all  that  occurred,  and  may  God  preserve  me  from 
ever  witnessing  another  murder  so  revolting  !" 

In  the  silence  that  ensued  she  turned  toward  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray, bowed,  and  said  as  she  quitted  the  parlor: 

"  Mrs.  Murray,  as  I  am  not  very  well,  you  will  please 
excuse  my  retiring  early." 

"  Just  what  you  deserve  for  bringing  the  subject  on  tapis. 
I  warned  you  not  to  allude  to  it."  As  St.  Elmo  muttered 
these  words  he  pushed  Estelle  from  him,  and  nodded  to  Mr. 
Allston,  who  seemed  as  nearly  nonplused  as  his  habitual 
impudence  rendered  possible. 


SI.  ELMO.  225 

Thoroughly  dissatisfied  with  herself,  and  too  restless  to 
sleep,  the  orphan  passed  the  weary  hours  of  night  in  en- 
deavoring to  complete  a  chapter  on  Buddhism,  which  she 
had  commenced  some  days  before  ;  and  the  birds  w  ere 
chirping  their  reveille,  and  the  sky  blanched  and  reddened 
ere  she  laid  down  her  pen  and  locked  up  her  ms.  Throw 
ing  open  the  blinds  of  the  eastern  window  she  stood  foi 
some  time  looking  out,  gathering  strength  from  the  holy 
calm  of  the  dewy  morning,  resolving  to  watch  her  own  heart 
ceaselessly,  to  crush  promptly  the  strange  feeling  she  had 
found  there,  and  to  devote  herself  unreservedly  to  her 
studies.  At  that  moment  the  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  on  the 
stony  walk  attracted  her  attention,  and  she  saw  Mr.  Murraj 
riding  from  the  stables.  As  he  passed  her  window  he 
glanced  up,  their  eyes  met,  and  he  lifted  his  hat  and  rode 
on.  Were  those  the  same  sinister,  sneering  features  she 
had  looked  at  the  evening  before  ?  His  face  was  paler, 
sterner,  and  sadder  than  she  had  ever  seen  it,  and  covering 
her  own  with  her  hands  she  murmured : 

"  God  help  me  to  resist  that  man's  wicked  magnetism ! 
0  Grandpa!  are  you  looking  down  on  your  poor  little 
Pearl  ?  Will  you  forgive  me  for  allowing  myself  ever  to 
have  thought  kindly  and  tenderly  of  this  strange  tempta- 
tion which  Satan  has  sent  to  draw  my  heart  away  from  my 
God  and  my  duty  ?  Ah  Grandpa  !  I  will  crush  it — I  will 
conquer  it !    I  will  not  yield  !" 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


VOIDING  as  much  as  possible  the  society  of  Mrs. 
Murray's  guests,  as  well  as  that  of  her  son, 
Edna  turned  to  her  books  with  increased  energy 
^and  steadfastness,  while  her  manner  was  marked 
by  a  studied  reticence  hitherto  unnoticed.  The  house  was 
thronged  with  visitors,  and  families  residing  in  the  neighbor- 
hood were  frequently  invited  to  dinner  ;  but  the  orphan 
generally  contrived  on  these  occasions  to  have  an  engage- 
ment at  the  parsonage ;  and  as  Mrs.  Murray  no  longer 
required,  or  seemed  to  desire  her  presence,  she  spent  much 
of  her  time  alone,  and  rarely  saw  the  members  of  the  house- 
hold, except  at  breakfast.  She  noticed  that  Mr.  Allston 
either  felt  or  feigned  unbounded  admiration  of  Estelle,  who 
graciously  received  his  devoted  attentions ;  while  Mr. 
Murray  now  and  then  sneered  openly  at  both,  and  appeared 
daily  more  impatient  to  quit  the  home,  of  which  he  spoke 
with  undisguised  disgust.  As  day  after  day,  and  week 
after  week  slipped  by  without  bringing  tidings  of  Edna's 
ms.,  her  heart  became  oppressed  with  anxious  forebodings, 
and  she  found  it  difficult  to  wait  patiently  for  the  verdict 
upon  which  hung  all  her  hopes. 

One  Thursday  afternoon,  when  a  number  of  persons  had 
been  invited  to  dine  at  Le  Bocage,  and  Mrs.  Murray  was 
engrossed  by  preparations  for  their  entertainment,  Edna 
took  her  Greek  books  and  stole  away  unobseiwed  to  the 
parsonage,  where  she  spent  a  quiet  evening  in  reading  aloud 
from  the  Organon  of  Aristotle. 


ST.  ELMO.  .  227 

It  was  quite  late  when  Mr.  Hammond  took  her  home  in 
his  buggy,  and  bade  her  good  night  at  the  door-step.  Aa 
she  entered  the  house  she  saw  several  couples  promenading 
on  the  verandah,  and  heard  Estelle  and  Clinton  Allston 
singing  a  duet  from  "  II  Trovatore."  Passing  the  parlor 
door  one  quick  glance  showed  hej?  Mr.  Murray  and  Mr,  Leigh 
standing  together  under  the  chandelier — the  latter  gentle- 
man talking  earnestly,  the  former  with  his  gaze  fastened  on 
the  carpet,  and  the  chilling  smile  fixed  on  his  lip.  The 
faces  of  the  two  presented  a  painfid  contrast — one  fair, 
hopeful,  bright  with  noble  aims,  and  youthful  yet  manly 
beauty ;  the  other  swarthy,  cold,  repulsive  as  some  bronze 
image  of  Abaddon.  For  more  than  three  weeks  Edna  had 
not  spoken  to  Mr.  Murray,  except  to  utter  "  good  morning," 
as  she  entered  the  dining-room,  or  passed  him  in  the  hall ; 
and  now  with  a  sigh  which  she  did  not  possess  the  courage 
to  analyze,  she  went  up  to  her  room  and  sat  down  to  read. 

Among  the  books  on  her  desk  was  Machiavelli's  Prince, 
and  History  of  Florence,  and  the  copy,  which  was  an  ex- 
ceedingly handsome  one,  contained  a  portrait  of  the  author. 
Between  the  regular  features  of  the  Florentine  satirist  and 
those  of  the  master  of  the  house,  Edna  had  so  frequently 
found  a  startling  resemblance,  that  she  one  day  mentioned 
the  subject  to  Mrs.  Murray,  who,  after  a  careful  examination 
of  the  picture,  was  forced  to  admit,  rather  ungraciously, 
that  "  they  certainly  looked  somewhat  alike."  To-night  as 
the  orphan  lifted  the  volume  from  its  resting-place,  it 
opened  at  the  portrait,  and  she  looked  long  at  the  handsome 
face  which,  had  the  lips  been  thinner,  and  the  hair  thicker 
and  more  curling  at  the  temples,  might  have  been  daguer- 
reotyped  from  that  one  down-stairs  under  the  chandelier. 

One  maxim  of  the  Prince  had  certainly  been  adopted 
by  Mr.  Murray,  "  It  is  safer  to  be  feared  than  to  be  loved  ;" 
and  while  the  orphan  detested  the  crafty  and  unscrupulous 
policy  of  Niccolo  Machiavelli,  her  reason  told  her  that  the 


228  ST.  ELMO. 

character  of  St.  Elmo  Murray  was  scarcely  more  worthy  cf 
respect. 

She  heard  the  guests  take  their  departure,  heard  Mrs. 
Murray  ask  Hagar  whether  "  Edna  had  returned  from  the 
parsonage,"  and  then  doors  were  closed  and  the  house  grew 
silent. 

Vain  were  the  girl's  efforts  to  concentrate  her  thoughts 
on  her  hooks  or  upon  her  ms.  ;  they  wandered  toward  the 
portrait ;  and  finally  remembering  that  she  needed  a  book 
of  reference,  she  lighted  a  candle,  took  the  copy  of  Machia- 
velli,  which  she  determined  to  put  out  of  sight,  and  went 
down  to  the  library.  The  smell  of  a  cigar  aroused  her  sus- 
picions as  she  entered,  and  glancing  nervously  around  the 
room  she  saw  Mr  Murray  seated  before  the  window. 

His  face  was  turned  from  her,  and  hoping  to  escape  un- 
noticed, she  was  retracing  her  steps  when  he  rose. 

"  Come  in,  Edna.  I  am  waiting  for  you,  for  I  knew  you 
would  be  here  some  time  before  day." 

Taking  the  candle  from  her  hand,  he  held  it  close  to  her 
face,  and  compressed  his  lips  tightly  for  an  instant. 

"  How  long  do  you  suppose  your  constitution  will  endure 
the  tax  you  impose  upon  it  ?  Midnight  toil  has  already 
robbed  you  of  your  color,  and  converted  a  rosy,  robust  child 
into  a  pale,  weary,  hollow-eyed  woman. .  What  do  you 
want  here  ?" 

«  The  Edda." 

"  What  business  have  you  with  Norse  myths,  with  runes 
and  scalds  and  sagas  ?  You  can't  have  the  book.  I  carried 
it  to  my  rooms  yesterday,  and  I  am  in  no  mood  to-night  to 
play  errand-boy  for  any  one." 

Edna  turned  to  place  the  copy  of  Machia^elli  on  the 
shelves,  and  he  continued  : 

"  It  is  a  marvel  that  the  index  expurgatorius  of  your 
saintly  tutor  does  not  taboo  the  infamous  doctrines  of  the 
greatest  statesman  of  Italy.  I  am  told  that  you  do  me  the 
honor   to   discover  a  marked  likeness  between  his  coun* 


£T.  ELMO. 


tenance  and  mine.  May  I  flatter  myself  so  Highly  as  to  be- 
lieve the  statement  ?" 

"  Even  your  mother  admits  the  resemblance." 

"  Think  you  the  analogy  extends  further  than  the  mere 
physique,  or  do  you  trace  it  only  in  the  corporeal  develop- 
ment ?" 

"  I  believe,  sir,  that  your  character  is  as  much  a  counter- 
part of  his  as  your  features;  that  your  code  is  quite  as 
latitudinarian  as  his." 

She  had  abstained  from  looking  at  him,  but  now  hei  eyes 
met  his  fearlessly,  and  in  their  beautiful  depths  he  read  an 
expression  of  loathing,  such  as  a  bird  might  evince  for  the 
serpent  whose  glittering  eyes  enchained  it. 

"  Ah !  at  least  your  honesty  is  refreshing  in  these  ac- 
cursed days  of  hypocritical  sycophancy  !  I  wonder  how 
much  more  training  it  will  require  before  your  lips  learn 
fashionable  lying  tricks  ?  But  you  understand  me  as  little 
as  the  world  understood  poor  Machiavelli^  of  whom  Burko 
justly  remarked,  '  He  is  obliged  to  bear  the  iniquities  of 
those  whose  maxims  and  rules  of  government  he  published. 
His  speculation  is  more  abhorred  than  their  practice.'  We 
are  both  painted  blacker  than " 

"  I  came  here,  sir,  to  discuss  neither  his  character  nor 
yours.  It  is  a  topic  for  which  I  have  as  little  leisure  as  in- 
clination.    Good  night,  Mr.  Murray." 

He  bowed  profoundly,  and  spoke  through  set  teeth  : 

"I   regret   the   necessity   of   detaining   you   a  moment 

onger,  but  I  believe  you  have  been  anxiously  expecting  a 

letter  for  some  time,  as  I  hear  that  you  every  day  anticipate 

my  inquiries  at  the  post-office.     This  afternoon  the  express 

agent  gave  me  this  package." 

He  handed  her  a  parcel  and  smiled  as  he  watched  the 
startled  look,  the  expression  of  dismay,  of  keen  disappoint- 
ment that  came  into  her  face. 

The  frail  bark  had  struck  the  reefs  ;  she  felt  that  her 
hopes  wera  going  down  to  ruin,  and  her  lips  quivered  with 


•230  ST.  ELMO. 

pain  as  she  recognized  Mr.  Manning's  bold  chirography  on 
the  paper  wrapping. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child  ?" 

"  Something  that  concerns  only  myself." 

"  Are  you  unwilling  to  trust  me  with  your  secret,  what> 
evar  it  may  be?  It  would  sooner  find  betrayal  from  the 
grinning  skeletons  of  Atures  in  the  cavern  of  Atarnipe 
than  from  my  lips." 

Smothering  a  sigh  she  shook  her  head  impatiently. 

"  That  means  that  red-hot  steel  could  not  pinch  it  out  of 
you  ;  and  that  despite  your  boasted  charity  and  love  of  hu- 
manity you  really  entertain  as  little  confidence  in  your  race 
as  it  is  my  pleasure  to  indulge.  I  applaud  your  wisdom, 
but  certainly  did  not  credit  you  with  so  much  craftiness. 
My  reason  for  not  delivering  the  parcel  more  promptly,was 
simply  the  wish  to  screen  you  from  the  Argus  scrutiny  with 
which  we  are  both  favored  by  some  now  resident  at  Bocage. 
As  your  letters  subjected  you  to  suspicion,  I  presumed  it 
would  be  more  agreeable  to  you  to  receive  them  without 
witnesses." 

He  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  gave  it  to  her. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Murray  ;  you  are  very  kind." 

"  Pardon  me  !  that  is  indeed  a  novel  accusation  !  Kind, 
I  never  professed  to  be.  I  am  simply  not  quite  a  brute,  nor 
altogether  a  devil  of  the  most  malicious  and  vindictive  va- 
riety, as  you  doubtless  consider  it  your  religious  duty  to 
believe.  However,  having  hopelessly  lost  my  character,  I 
shall  not  trespass  on  your  precious  time  by  wasting  words 
in  pronouncing  a  eulogy  upon  it,  as  Antony  did  over  tie 
stabbed  corpse  of  Cassar  !  I  stand  in  much  the  same  rela- 
tion to  society  that  King  John  did  to  Christendom,  when 
Innocent  III.  excommunicated  him  ;  only  I  snap  my  fingers 
in  the  face  of  my  pontiff,  the  world,  and  jingle  my  Peter- 
pence  in  my  pocket  ;  whereas  poor  John's  knees  quaked 
until  he  found  himself  at  the  feet  of  Innocent,  meekly  receiv- 
ing Langton,  and  paying  tribute  !     Child,  you  are  in  trou- 


ST.  ELMO.  231 

ble;  and  your  truthful  countenance  reveals  it  as  unmislak 
ably  as  did  the  Phrygian  reeds  that  babbled  of  the  personal 
beauties  of  Midas.  Of  course  it  does  not  concern  me — it  is 
not  my  business — and  you  certainly  have  as  good  a  right  as 
any  other  child  of  Adam,  to  fret  and  cry  and  pout  over 
your  girlish  griefs,  to  sit  up  all  night,  ruin  your  eyes,  and 
grew  rapidly  and  prematurely  old  and  ugly.  But  when- 
evar  I  chance  to  stumble  over  a  wounded  creature  trying 
to  drag  itself  out  of  sight,  I  generally  either  wring  its 
neck,  or  set  my  heel  on  it  to  end  its  torment ;  or  else,  if 
there  is  a  fair  prospect  of  the  injury  healing  by  'first  in- 
tention,' I  take  it  gently  on  the  tip  of  my  boot,  and  help  it 
out  of  my  way.  Something  has  hurt  you,  and  I  suspect  I 
can  aid  you.  Your  anxiety  about  those  letters  proves  that 
you  doubt  your  idol.  You  and  your  lover  have  quarrelled  ? 
Be  frank  with  me  ;  tell  me  his  name,  and  I  swear,  upon  the 
honor  of  a  gentleman,  I  will  rectify  the  trouble — will  bring 
him  in  contrition  to  your  feet." 

Whether  he  dealt  in  irony,  as  was  his  habit,  or  really 
meant  what  he  said,  she  was  unable  to  determine ;  and  her 
quick  glance  at  his  countenance  showed  her  only  a  danger- 
ous sparkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Murray,  you  are  wrong  in  your  conjecture  ;  I  have 
no  lover." 

"  Oh !  call  him  what  you  please  !  I  shall  not  presume  to 
dictate  your  terms  of  endearment.  I  merely  wish  to  say, 
that  if  poverty  stands  forbiddingly  between  you  and  hap- 
piness, why,  command  me,  to  the  extent  of  half  my  fortune. 
I  will  give  you  a  dowry  that  shall  equal  the  expectations 
of  any  ambitious  suitor  in  the  land.  Trust  me,  child,  with 
your  sorrow,  and  I  will  prove  a  faithful  friend.  Who  has 
your  heart  ?" 

The  unexpected  question  alarmed  and  astonished  hei-, 
and  a  shivering  dread  took  possession  of  her  that  he  sus 
pected  her  real  feelings,  and  was  laughing  at  her  folly. 
Treacherous  blood  began  to  paint  confusion  in  her  face,  and 
vehement  and  rapid  were  her  words. 


232  ST.  ELMO. 

"  God  and  my  conscience  own  my  heart.  1  know  no  man 
to  whom  I  would  willingly  give  it;  and  the  correspondence 
to  which  you  allude  contains  not  a  syllable  of  love.  My 
time  is  rather  too  valuable  to  be  frittered  away  in  such 
t  rifling." 

"  Edna,  would  you  prefer  to  have  me  a  sworn  ally  or  an 
avowed  enemy?" 

"  I  should  certainly  prefer  to  consider  you  as  neither." 

"  Did  you  ever  know  me  to  fail  in  any  matter  which  I 
nad  determined  to  accomplish  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  your  entire  life  is  a  huge,  hideous,  woful  fail- 
ure, which  mocks  and  maddens  you." 

"  What  the  d — 1  do  you  know  of  my  life  ?  It  is  not 
ended  yet,  and  it  remains  to  be  seen  whether  a  grand  suc- 
cess is  not  destined  to  crown  it.  Mark  you !  the  grapple  is 
not  quite  over,  and  I  may  yet  throttle  the  furies  whose  cursed 
fingers  clutched  me  in  my  boyhood.  If  I  am  conquered 
finally,  take  my  oath  for  it,  I  shall  die  so  hard  that  the 
howling  hags  will  be  welcome  to  their  prey.  Single-handed 
I  am  fighting  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  and  I  want 
neither  inspection,  nor  sympathy,  nor  assistance.  Do  you 
understand  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  And  as  I  certainly  desire  to  thrust  neither 
upon  you,  I  will  bid  you  good-night." 

"  One  moment !     What  does  that  package  contain  ?" 

"  The  contents  belong  exclusively  to  me — could  not  possi- 
bly interest  you — would  only  challenge  your  sarcasm,  and 
furnish  food  for  derision.  Consequently,  Mr.  Murray,  you 
must  excuse  me  if  I  decline  answering  your  question." 

"I'll  wager  my  title  to  Le  Bocage  that  I  can  guess  so 
accurately,  that  you  will  regret  that  you  did  not  make  a 
grace  of  necessity,  and  tell  me." 

A  vague  terror  overshadowed  her  features  as  she  ex- 
amined the  seals  on  the  package,  and  replied : 

"That,  sir,  is  impossible,  if  you  are  the  honorable  gentle* 
man  I  have  always  tried  to  force  myself  to  believe." 


8T.  ELMO.  233 

"Silly  child!  Do  you  imagine  I  would  condescend  to 
soil  my  fingers  with  the  wax  that  secures  that  trash  ?  That 
I  could  stoop  to  an  inspection  of  the  correspondence  of  a 
village  blacksmith's  granddaughter  ?  I  will  give  you  one 
more  chance  to  close  the  breach  between  us  by  proving 
your  trust.     Edna,  have  you  no  confidence  in  me  ?" 

"  None,  Mr.  Murray." 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  by  looking  me  full  in  the  face,  and 
repeating  your  flattering  words  ?" 

She  raised  her  head,  and  though  her  heart  throbbed 
fiercely  as  she  met  his  eyes,  her  voice  was  cold,  steady,  and 
resolute : 

"  None,  Mr.  Murray." 

"  Thank  you.  Some  day  those  same  red  lips  will  humbly, 
tremblingly  crave  my  pardon  for  what  they  utter  now ;  and 
then,  Edna  Earl,  I  shall  take  my  revenge,  and  )  ou  will  look 
back  to  this  night  and  realize  the  full  force  of  my  parting 
words — vce  victis  !  " 

He  stooped  and  picked  up  a  bow  of  rose-colored  ribbon 
which  had  fallen  from  her  throat,  handed  it  to  her,  smiled, 
and,  with  one  of  those  low,  graceful,  haughty  bows  so  indi- 
cative of  his  imperious  nature,  he  left  the  library.  A  mo- 
ment after  she  heard  his  peculiar  laugh,  mirthless  and  bit- 
ter, ring  through  the  rotundo ;  then  the  door  was  slammed 
violently,  and  quiet  reigned  once  more  through  the  man- 
sion. 

Taking  the  candle  from  the  table  where  Mr.  Murray  had 
placed  it,  Edna  went  back  to  her  own  room  and  sat  down 
before  the  window. 

On  her  lap  lay  the  package  and  letter,  which  she  no 
longer  felt  any  desire  to  open,  and  her  hands  drooped  list 
lessly  at  her  side.  The  fact  that  her  ms.  was  returned  rung 
a  knell  for  all  her  sanguine  hopes;  for  such  was  her  confi- 
dence in  the  critical  acumen  of  Mr.  Manning,  that  she  deemed 
it  utterly  useless  to  appeal  to  any  other  tribunal.  A  higher 
one  she  knew  Dot ;  a  lower  she  scorned  to  consult. 


234  ST.  ELMO. 

She  felt  like  Alice  Lisle  on  that  clay  of  doom,  when  Jef 
freys  pronounced  the  fatal  sentence ;  and  after  a  time,  when 
she  summoned  courage  to  open  the  letter,  her  cheeks  were 
wan  and  her  lips  compressed  so  firmly  that  their  curves  of 
beauty  were  no  longer  traceable. 

"Miss  Eael:  I  return  your  ms.,  not  because  it  is  devoid 
of  merit,  but  from  the  conviction  that  were  I  to  accept  it, 
the  day  would  inevitably  come  when  you  would  regret  its 
premature  publication.  While  it  contains  irrefragable  evi- 
dence of  extraordinary  ability,  and  abounds  in  descriptions 
of  great  beauty,  your  style  is  characterized  by  more  strength 
than  polish,  and  is  marred  by  crudities  which  a  dainty  pub- 
lic would  never  tolerate.  The  subject  you  have  undertaken 
is  beyond  your  capacity — no  woman  could  successfully  han- 
dle it — and  the  sooner  you  realize  your  over-estimate  of  your 
powers,  the  sooner  your  aspirations  find  their  proper  level, 
the  sooner  you  will  succeed  in  your  treatment  of  some  theme 
better  suited  to  your  feminine  ability.  Burn  the  inclosed 
Ms.,  whose  erudition  and  archaisms  would  fatally  nauseate 
the  intellectual  dyspeptics  who  read  my  '  Maga,'  and  write 
sketches  of  home-life — descriptions  of  places  and  things  that 
you  understand  better  than  recondite  analogies  of  ethica1 
creeds  and  mythologic  systems,  or  the  subtle  lore  of  Coptic 
priests.  Remember  that  women  never  write  histories  nor 
epics;  never  compose  oratorios  that  go  sounding  down  the 
centuries ;  never  paint '  Last  Suppers '  and  '  Judgment  Days ;' 
though  now  and  then  one  gives  to  the  world  a  pretty  bal- 
lad that  sounds  sweet  and  soothing  when  sung  over  a  cradle, 
or  another  paints  a  pleasant  little  genre  sketch  which  will 
hang  appropriately  in  some  quiet  corner,  and  rest  and  re- 
fresh eyes  that  are  weary  with  gazing  at  the  sublime  spirit- 
ualism of  Fra  Bartolomeo,  or  the  gloomy  grandeur  of  Sal- 
vator  Rosa.  If  you  have  any  short  articles  which  you  desire 
to  see  ii?  print,  you  may  forward  them,  and  I  will  select  any 


ST.    FLAW.  235 

for  publication, which  I  think  you  will  not  blush  to  acknow- 
ledge in  future  years. 

"  Very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Douglass  G.  Manning." 

Unwrapping  the  MS.,  she  laid  it  with  its  death-warrant 
in  a  drawer,  then  sat  down,  crossed  her  arms  on  the  top  of 
her  desk,  and  rested  her  head  upon  them.  The  face  was 
not  concealed,  and,  as  the  light  shone  on  it,  an  experienced 
physiognomist  would  have  read  there  profound  disappoint- 
ment, a  patient  weariness,  but  unbending  resolution  and  no 
vestige  of  bitterness.  The  lai'ge,  thoughtful  eyes  were  sad 
but  dry,  and  none  who  looked  into  them  could  have  imag- 
ined for  an  instant  that  she  would  follow  the  advice  she  had 
so  eagerly  sought.  During  her  long  reverie,  she  wondered 
whether  all  women  were  browbeaten  for  aspiring  to  liter- 
ary honors ;  whether  the  poignant  pain  and  mortification 
gnawing  at  her  heart  was  the  inexorable  initiation-fee  for 
entrance  upon  that  arena,  where  fame  adjudges  laurel 
crowns,  and  reluctantly  and  sullenly  drops  one  now  and 
then  on  female  brows.  To  possess  herself  of  the  golden 
apple  of  immortality,  was  a  purpose  from  which  she  had 
never  swerved ;  but  how  to  baffle  the  dragon  critics  who 
jealously  guarded  it  was  a  problem  whose  solution  puzzled 
her. 

To  abandon  her  right  to  erudition  formed  no  part  of  the 
programme  which  she  was  mentally  arranging,  as  she  sat 
there  watching  a  moth  singe  its  filmy,  spotted  wings  in  the 
gas-flame ;  for  she  was  obstinately  wedded  to  the  unpar- 
donable heresy,  that,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  it  was  a 
woman's  privilege  to  be  as  learned  as  Cuvier,  or  Sir  Wil- 
liam Hamilton,  or  Humboldt,  provided  the  learning  waa 
accurate,  and  gave  out  no  hollow,  counterfeit  ring  under 
the  merciless  hammering  of  the  dragons.  If  women  chose 
to  blister  their  fair,  tender  hands  in  turning  the  windlass 


236  ST.  ELMO. 

of  that  fabled  well  where  truth  is  hidden,  and  bruised  theii 
pretty,  white  feet  in  groping  finally  on  the  rocky  bottom, 
was  the  treasure  which  they  ultimately  discovered  and 
dragged  to  light  any  the  less  truth  because  stentorian, 
manly  voices  were  not  the  first  to  shout  Eureka  ? 

She  could  not  understand  why,  in  the  vineyard  of  letters, 
the  laborer  was  not  equally  worthy  of  hire,  whether  the 
work  was  successfully  accomplished  in  the  toga  virilis  or 
the  gay  kirtle  of  contadina. 

Gradually  the  expression  of  pain  passed  from  the  girl's 
countenance,  and,  lifting  her  head,  she  took  from  her  desk 
several  small  MBS.,  which  she  had  carefully  written  from 
time  to  time,  as  her  reading  suggested  the  ideas  embodied 
in  the  articles.  Among  the  number  were  two,  upon  which 
she  had  bestowed  much  thought,  and  which  she  determined 
to  send  to  Mr.  Manning. 

One  was  an  elaborate  description  of  that  huge  iconoclasm 
attributed  to  Alcibiades,  and  considered  by  some  philoso- 
phic students  of  history  as  the  primeval  cause  of  the  ruin 
of  Athens.  In  order  to  reflect  all  possible  light  on  this 
curious  occurrence,  she  had  most  assiduously  gleaned  the 
pages  of  history,  and  massed  the  grains  of  truth  ;  had  stud- 
ied maps  of  the  city  and  descriptions  of  travellers,  that  she 
might  thoroughly  understand  the  topography  of  the  scene 
of  the  great  desecration.  So  fearful  was  she  of  committing 
some  anachronism,  or  of  soaring  on  the  wings  of  fancy  be- 
yond the  realm  of  well-authenticated  facts,  that  she  searched 
the  ancient  records  to  ascertain  whether  on  that  night  in 
May,  415  B.C.,  a  full  or  a  new  moon  looked  down  on  the 
bronze  helmet  of  Minerva  Promachus  and  the  fretted  frieze 
of  the  Parthenon. 

The  other  ms.,  upon  which  she  had  expended  much 
labor,  was  entitled  "  Keeping  the  Vigil  of  St.  Martin  under 
the  Pines  of  Griitli ;"  and  while  her  vivid  imagination 
reveled  in  the  weird  and  solemn  surroundings  of  the  lonely 
place  of  rendezvous,  the  sketch  contained  a  glowing  and 


ST.  ELMV.  287 

eloquent  tribute  to  the  liberators  of  HeUetia,  me  Confeder- 
ates of  Schweitz,  Uri,  and  Under walden. 

Whether  Mr.  Manning  would  consider  either  of  these 
articles  worthy  of  preservation  in  the  pages  of  his  magazine, 
3he  thought  exceedingly  doubtful ;  but  she  had  resolved  to 
make  one  more  appeal  to  his  fastidious  judgment,  and  ac- 
cordingly sealed  and  directed  the  roll  of  paper. 

Weary  but  sleepless,  she  pushed  back  the  heavy  folds  of 
hair  that  had  fallen  on  her  forehead,  brightened  the  gas- 
light, and  turned  to  the  completion  of  a  chapter  in  that  ms. 
which  the  editor  had  recommended  her  to  commit  to  the 
flames.  So  entirely  was  she  absorbed  in  her  work  that  the 
hours  passed  unheeded.  ~Now  and  then,  when  her  thoughts 
failed  to  flow  smoothly  into  graceful  sentence  moulds,  she 
laid  aside  her  pen,  walked  up  and  down  the  floor,  turning 
the  idea  over  and  over,  fitting  it  first  to  one  phrase,  then  to 
another,  until  the  verbal  drapery  fully  suited  her. 

The  whistle  of  the  locomotive  at  the  depot  told  her  that 
it  was  four  o'clock  before  her  task  was  accomplished  ;  and, 
praying  that  God's  blessing  would  rest  upon  it,  she  left  it 
unfinished,  and  threw  herself  down  to  sleep. 

But  slumber  brought  no  relaxation  to  the  busy  brain  that 
toiled  on  in  fitful,  grotesque  dreams  ;  and  when  the  sunshine 
streamed  through  the  open  window  at  the  foot  of  her  bed, 
it  showed  no  warm  flush  of  healthful  sleep  on  the  beautiful 
face,  but  weariness  and  pallor.  Incoherent  words  stirred 
the  lips,  troubled  thought  knitted  the  delicately-arched 
brows,  and  the  white,  dimpled  arms  were  tossed  restlessly 
above  her  head. 

Was  the  tired  midnight  worker  worthy  of  her  hire  ?  The 
world  would  one  day  pay  her  wages  in  the  currency  of 
gibes,  and  denunciation,  and  envious  censoriousness ;  but 
the  praise  of  men  had  not  tempted  her  to  the  vineyard,  and 
she  looked  in  faith  to  Him  "  who  seeth  in  secret,"  and 
whose  rewards  are  at  variance  with  those  of  the  task-mas- 
ters of  earth.     "Wherefore,"  O  lonely  but  conscientious 


238  ST-  elmo 

student !  "  be  ye  steadfast,  immovable,  always  abounding 
in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye  kmow  that  your 
labor  is  not  in  vain  !" 

Literary  women,  whose  avocation  is  selected  simply  be- 
cause they  fancy  it  easier  to  write  than  to  sew  for  bread, 
or  because  they  covet  the  applause  and  adulation  heaped 
upon  successful  genius,  or  desire  mere  notoriety,  generally 
barter  their  birthright  of  quiet,  life-long  happiness  in  the 
j^eaceful  seclusion  of  home  for  a  nauseous  mess  of  poisoned 
pottage  that  will  not  appease  their  hunger ;  and  they  go 
clown  to  untimely  graves  disappointed,  imbittered,  hating 
the  public  for  whose  praises  they  toiled,  cheated  out  of  the 
price  for  which  they  bargained  away  fireside  joys  and  do- 
mestic serenity. 

The  fondest  hope  of  Edna's  heart  was  to  be  useful  in 
"  her  day  and  generation  " — to  be  an  instrument  of  some 
good  to  her  race  ;  and  while  she  hoped  for  popularity  as  an 
avenue  to  the  accomplishment  of  her  object,  the  fear  of 
ridicule  and  censure  had  no  power  to  deter  her  from  the 
line  of  labor  upon  which  she  constantly  invoked  the  guid- 
ance and  blessing  of  God. 

The  noble  words  of  Kepler  rang  a  ceaseless  silvery  chime 
in  her  soul,  and  while  they  sustained  and  strengthened  her, 
she  sought  to  mould  her  life  in  harmony -with  their  sublime 
teachings : 

"  Lo  !  I  have  done  the  work  of  my  life  with  that  power 
of  intellect  which  Thou  hast  given.  If  I,  a  worm  before 
thine  eyes,  and  born  in  the  bonds  of  sin,  have  brought  forth 
any  thing  that  is  unworthy  of  thy  counsels,  inspire  me  with 
thy  spirit,  that  I  may  correct  it.  If  by  the  wonderful 
beauty  of  thy  works  I  have  been  led  into  boldness — if  I  have 
sought  my  own  honor  among  men  as  I  advanced  in  the  woik 
which  was  destined  to  thine  honor,  pardon  me  in  kindness 
and  charity,  and  by  thy  grace  grant  that  my  teaching  may 
be  to  thy  glory  and  the  welfare  of  all  men.  Praise  ye  the 
Lord,  ye  heavenly  harmonies  !  and  ye  that  understand  the 
new  harmonies,  praise  the  Lord  '" 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


R.  HAMMOND,  are  you  ill  ?     What  can  be  the 
matter  ?" 

Edna  threw  down  her  books  and  put  her 
hand  on  the  old  man's  shoulder.  His  face  was 
concealed  in  his  arms,  and  his  half-stifled  groan  told  that 
some  fierce  trial  had  overtaken  him. 

"  O  child !  I  am  troubled,  perplexed,  and  my  heart  is 
heavy  with  a  sorrow  which  I  thought  I  had  crushed." 

He  raised  his  head  for  a  moment,  looked  sadly  into  the 
girl's,  face,  and  dropped  his  furrowed  cheek  on  his  hand. 

"  Has  any  thing  happened  since  I  saw  you  yesterday  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  some  of 
my  relatives,  whose  presence  in  my  house  revives  very 
painful  associations  connected  with  earlier  years.  My  niece, 
Mrs.  Powell,  and  her  daughter  Gertrude,  came  very  unex- 
pectedly last  night  to  make  me  a  visit  of  some  length ;  and 
to  you,  my  child,  I  can  frankly  say  the  surprise  is  a  painful 
one.  Many  years  have  elapsed  since  I  received  any  tidings 
of  Agnes  Powell,  and  I  knew  not  until  she  suddenly  ap- 
peared before  me  last  night  that  she  was  a  widow  and  be- 
reft of  a  handsome  fortune.  She  claims  a  temporary  home 
tinder  my  roof;  and  though  she  has  caused  me  much  suf- 
fering, I  feel  that  I  must  endeavor  to  be  patient  and  kind 
to  her  and  her  child.  I  have  endured  many  trials,  but  this 
is  the  severest  I  have  yet  been  called  to  pass  through." 

Distressed  by  the  look  of  anguish  on  his  pale  face,  Edna 


240  ST.  ELMO. 

took  his  Land  between  both  hers,  and  stroking  it  caress- 
ingly said : 

"  My  dear  sir,  if  it  is  your  duty,  God  will  strengthen  and 
sustain  you.  Cheer  up ;  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  looking  so 
troubled.  A  cloud  on  your  face,  my  dear  Mr.  Hammond, 
is  to  me  like  an  eclipse  of  the  sun.  Pray  do  not  keep  me 
in  shadow." 

"  If  I  could  know  that  no  mischief  would  result  from 
Agnes's  presence,  I  would  not  regret  it  so  earnestly.  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  uncharitable  or  suspicious ;  but  I  fear  that 
her  motives  are  not  such  as  I  could " 

"  May  I  intrude,  Uncle  Allan  ?" 

The  stranger's  voice  was  very  sweet  and  winning,  and  as 
she  entered  the  room  Edna  could  scarcely  repress  an  excla- 
mation of  admiration ;  for  the  world  sees  but  rarely  such 
perfect  beauty  as  was  the  portion  of  Agnes  Powell. 

She  was  one  of  those  few  women  who  seem  the  pets  of 
time,  whose  form  and  features  catch  some  new  grace  and 
charm  from  every  passing  year ;  and  but  for  the  tall,  lovely 
girl  who  clung  to  her  hand  and  called  her  "  mother,"  a 
stranger  would  have  believed  her  only  twenty-six  or  eight. 

Fair,  rosy,  with  a  complexion  fresh  as  a  child's,  and  a  face 
faultless  in  contour  as  that  of  a  Greek  goddess,  it  was  im- 
possible to  resist  the  fascination  which  she  exerted  over  all 
who  looked  upon  her.  Her  waving  yellow  hair  flashed  in 
the  morning  sunshine,  and  as  she  raised  one  hand  to  shadt> 
her  large,  clear,  blue  eyes,  her  open  sleeve  fell  back,  dis- 
closing an  arm  dazzlingly  white  and  exquisitely  moulded. 
As  Mr.  Hammond  introduced  his  pupil  to  his  guests,  Mrs 
Powell  smiled  pleasantly,  and  pressed  the  offered  hand ; 
but  the  soft  eyes,  blue  and  cold  as  the  stalactites  of  Capri, 
scanned  the  orphan's  countenance,  and  when  Edna  had  seen 
fully  into  their  depths  she  could  not  avoid  recalling  Heine's 
poem  of  the  Loreley. 

"  My  daughter  Gertrude  promises  herself  much  pleasure 
in  your  society,  Miss  Earl ;  for  uncle's  praises  prepare  her 


ST.  ELMO.  241 

to  expect  a  most  charming  companion.  She  is  about  your 
age,  but  I  fear  you  will  find  great  disparity  in  her  attain- 
ments, as  she  has  not  been  so  fortunate  as  to  receive  her 
education  from  Uncle  Allan.  You  are,  I  believe,  an  adopt- 
ed daughter  of  Mrs.  Murray  ?" 

"  No,  madam ;  only  a  resident  in  her  house  until  my 
education  is  pronounced  sufficiently  advanced  to  justify  my 
teaching." 

"I  have  a  friend,  (Miss  Harding,)  who  has  recently  re- 
moved to  Le  Bocage,  and  intends  making  it  her  home. 
How  is  she  ?" 

"  Quite  well,  I  believe." 

Mr.  Hammond  left  the  study  for  a  moment,  and  Mrs. 
Powell  added : 

"  Her  friends  at  the  North  tell  me  that  she  is  to  marry 
her  cousin,  Mr.  Murray,  very  soon." 

"  I  had  not  heard  the  report." 

"  Then  you  think  there  are  no  grounds  for  the  rumor  ?" 

"  Indeed,  madam,  I  know  nothing  whatever  concerning 
the  matter." 

"  Estelle  is  handsome  and  brilliant." 

Edna  made  no  reply;  and  after  waiting  a  few  seconds, 
Mrs.  Powell  asked : 

"  Does  Mr.  Murray  go  much  into  society  now  ?" 

"  I  believe  not." 

"  Is  he  as  handsome  as  ever  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  when  you  saw  him  last,  but  the  ladies 
here  seem  rather  to  dread  than  admire  him.  Mrs.  Powell, 
you  are  dipping  your  sleeve  into  your  uncle's  inkstand." 

She  by  no  means  relished  this  catechism,  and  resolved  to 
end  it.  Picking  up  her  books,  she  said  to  Mr.  Hammond, 
who  now  stood  in  the  door : 

"  I  presty&e  I  need  not  wait,  as  you  will  be  too  much  oc- 
cupied to-day  to  attend  to  my  lessons." 

"  Yes ;  I  must  give  you  holiday  until  Monday." 

"  Miss  Earl,  may  I  trouble  you  to  hand  this  letter  to  Miss 


242  ST.  ELMO. 

Harding?  It  was  intrusted  to  my  care  by  one  of  he» 
friends  in  New- York.  Pray  be  so  good  as  to  deliver  it, 
with  my  kindest  regards." 

As  Edna  left  the  house,  the  pastor  took  his  hat  from  the 
rack  in  the  hall,  and  walked  silently  beside  her  until  she 
reached  the  gate. 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  your  niece  is  the  most  beautiful  woman 
I  have  ever  seen." 

He  sighed  heavily  and  answered  hesitatingly  : 

"  Yes,  yes.  She  is  more  beautiful  now  than  when  she 
first  grew  up." 

"  Plow  long  has  she  been  a. widow?" 

"  Not  quite  a  year." 

The  troubled  expression  settled  once  more  over  his  placid 
face,  and  when  Edna  bade  him  good  morning,  and  had 
walked  some  distance,  she  happened  to  look  back,  and  saw 
him  still  leaning  on  the  little  gate,  under  the  drooping 
honeysuckle  tendrils,  with  his  gray  head  bent  down  on  hia 
hand. 

That  Mrs.  Powell  was  in  some  way  connected  with  Mr. 
Murray's  estrangement  from  the  minister  Edna  felt  assured, 
and  the  curiosity  which  the  inquiries  of  the  former  had 
betrayed,  told  her  that  she  must  be  guarded  in  her  inter* 
course  with  a  woman  who  was  an  object  of  distrust  even 
to  her  own  uncle. 

Very  often  she  had  been  tempted  to  ask  Mr.  Hammond 
why  Mr.  Murray  so  sedulously  shunned  him ;  but  the  shadow 
which  fell  upon  his  countenance  whenever  St.  Elmo's  name 
was  accidentally  mentioned,  made  her  shrink  from  alluding 
to  a  subject  which  he  evidently  avoided  discussing. 

Before  she  had  walked  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the 
village  Mr.  Leigh  joined  her,  and  she  felt  the  color  rise  in 
her  cheeks  as  his  fine  eyes  rested  on  her  foce  and  his  hand 
pressed  hers.  "You  must  forgive  me  for  telling  you  how 
bitterly  I  was  disappointed  in  not  seeing  you  two  days 
ago.     Why  did  you  absent  yourself  from  the  table  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  243 

"  Because  I  had  no  desire  to  meet  Mrs.  Murray's  guests, 
and  preferred  to  spend  my  time  with  Mr.  Hammond." 

"  If  he  were  not  old  enough  to  be  your  grandfather.  I 
believe  I  should  be  jealous  of  him.  Edna,  do  not  be  offended, 
I  am  so  anxious  about  you — so  pained  at  the  change  in  your 
appearance.  Last  Sunday  as  you  sat  in  church  I  noticed 
how  very  pale  and  worn  you  looked,  and  with  what  weari- 
ness you  leaned  vour  head  upon  your  hand.  Mrs.  Murray 
says  you  are  very  well,  but  I  know  better.  You  are  either 
sick  in  body  or  mind ;  which  is  it  ?" 

'"iN" either,  Mr.  Leigh.     I  am  quite  well,  I  assure  you." 

"You  are  grieved  about  something,  which  you  are  un- 
willing to  confide  to  me.  Edna,  it  is  a  keen  pain  that  some- 
times brings  that  quiver  to  your  lips,  and  if  you  would  only 
tell  me  !     Edna,  I  know  that  L " 

"  You  conjure  up  a  spectre.  I  have  nothing  to  confide, 
and  there  is  no  trouble  which  you  can  relieve."  They 
walked  on  silently  for  a  while,  and  then  Gordon  said  : 

"  I  am  going  away  day  after  to-morrow,  to  be  absent  at 
least  for  several  months,  and  I  have  come  to  ask  a  favor 
which  you  are  too  generous  to  deny.  I  want  your  ambro- 
type  or  photograph,  and  I  hope  you  will  give  it  to  me 
without  hesitation." 

"  I  have  never  had  a  likeness  of  any  kind  taken." 

"  There  is  a  good  artist  here  ;  will  you  not  go  to-day  and 
have  one  taken  for  me  ?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Leigh." 

"  0  Edna  !  why  not  ?" 

"  Because  I  do  not  wish  you  to  think  of  or  remember 
me.  The  sooner  you  forget  me  entirely,  save  as  a  mere 
friend,  the  happier  we  both  shall  be." 

"  But  that  is  impossible.  If  you  withhold  your  picture  it 
will  do  no  good,  for  I  have  your  face  here  in  my  heart,  and 
you  can  not  take  that  image  from  me." 

"  At  least  I  will  not  encourage  feelings  which  can  bring 
onlj  pain  to  me  and  disappointment  to  yourself.     I  consider 


214  ST.  ELMO. 

it  unprincipled  and  contemptible  in  a  woman  to  foster  or 
promote  in  any  degree  an  affection  which,  she  knows  she 
can  never  reciprocate.  If  I  had  fifty  photographs,  I  would 
not  give  you  one.  My  dear  friend,  let  the  past  be  forgotten ; 
it  saddens  me  whenever  I  think  of  it,  and  is  a  barrier  to  all 
pleasant  friendly  intercourse.  Good-by,  Mr.  Leigh.  You 
have  my  best  wishes  on  your  journey." 

"  Will  you  not  allow  me  to  see  you  home  ?" 

"I  think  it  is  best — I  prefer  that  you  should  not.  Mr 
Leigh,  promise  me  that  you  will  struggle  against  this  feel- 
ing, which  distresses  me  beyond  expression." 

She  turned  and  put  out  her  hand.  He  shook  his  head 
mournfully  and  said  as  he  left  her  : 

"  God  bless  you  !  It  will  be  a  dreary,  dreary  season  with 
me  till  I  return  and  see  your  face  again.  God  preserve  you 
till  then !" 

Walking  rapidly  homeward,  Edna  wondered  why  she 
could  not  return  Gordon  Leigh's  affection — why  his  noble 
face  never  haunted  her  dreams  instead  of  another's  —  of 
which  she  dreaded  to  think. 

Looking  rigorously  into  the  past  few  weeks,  she  felt  that 
long  before  she  was  aware  of  the  fact,  an  image  to  which 
she  refused  homage,  must  have  6tood  between  her  heart 
and  Gordon's. 

When  she  reached  home  she  inquired  for  Miss  Harding, 
and  was  informed  that  she  and  Mrs.  Murray  had  gone  visit- 
ing with  Mr.  Allston  ;  had  taken  lunch,  and  would  not  re- 
turn until  late  in  the  afternoon.  Hagar  told  her  that  Mr. 
Murray  had  started  at  daylight  to  one  of  his  plantations 
about  twelve  miles  distant,  and  would  not  be  back  in  time 
for  dinner ;  and  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  a  quiet  day,  she 
determined  to  complete  the  chapter  which  she  had  left  un- 
finished two  nights  previous. 

Needing  a  reference  in  the  book  which  Mr.  Murray  had 
taken  from  the  library,  she  went  up  to  copy  it ;  and  as  she 
sat  down  in  the  sitting-room   and  opened  the  volume  to 


ST.  ELMO.  245 

nnd  the  passage  she  required,  a  letter  slipped  out  and  fell 
at  her  feet.  She  glanced  at  the  envelope  as  she  picked  it 
up,  and  her  heart  bounded  painfully  as  she  saw  Mr.  Mur- 
ray's name  written  in  Mr.  Manning's  peculiar  and  unmis- 
takable chirography. 

The  postmark  and  date  corresponded  exactly  with  the 
one  that  she  had  received  the  night  Mr.  Murray  gave  her 
the  roll  of  ms.,  and  the  strongest  temptation  of  her  life  here 
assailed  her.  She  would  almost  have  given  her  right  hand 
to  know  the  contents  of  that  letter,  and  Mr.  Murray's  con- 
fident assertion  concerning  the  package  was  now  fully  ex- 
plained. He  had  recognized  the  handwriting  on  her  letters, 
and  suspected  her  ambitious  scheme.  He  was  not  a  stranger 
to  Mr.  Manning,  and  must  have  known  the  nature  of  their 
correspondence  ;  consequently  his  taunt  about  a  lover  was 
entirely  ironical. 

She  turned  the  unsealed  envelope  over  and  over,  longing 
to  know  what  it  contained. 

The  house  was  deserted — there  was,  she  knew,  no  human 
being  nearer  than  the  kitchen,  and  no  eye  but  God's  upon 
her.  She  looked  once  more  at  the  superscription  of  the 
letter,  sighed,  and  put  it  back  into  the  book  without  open- 
ing the  envelope. 

She  copied  into  her  note-book  the  reference  she  was  seek 
ing,  and  replacing  the  volume  on  the  window-sill  where 
she  had  found  it,  went  back  to  her  own  room  and  tried  to 
banish  the  subject  of  the  letter  from  her  mind. 

After  all,  it  was  not  probable  that  Mr.  Murray  had  ever 
mentioned  her  name  to  his  correspondent ;  and  as  she  had 
not  alluded  to  Le  Bocage  or  its  inmates  in  writing  to  Mr. 
Manning,  St.  Elmo's  hints  concerning  her  ms.  were  merely 
based  on  conjecture.  She  felt  as  if  she  would  rather  face 
any  other  disaster  sooner  than  have  him  scoffing  at  her 
daring  project ;  and  more  annoyed  and  puzzled  than  she 
chose  to  confess,  she  resolutely  bent  her  thoughts  upon  her 
work. 


24:6  ST.  ELMO. 

It  was  almost  dusk  before  Mrs.  Murray  and  Lor  guests 
returned  ;  and  when  it  grew  so  dark  that  Edna  could  not 
see  the  lines  of  her  paper,  she  smoothed  her  hair,  changed 
her  dress,  and  went  down  to  the  parlor. 

Mrs.  Murray  was  resting  in  a  corner  of  the  sofa,  fanning 
herself  vigorously,  and  Mr.  Allston  smoked  on  the  verandah 
and  talked  to  her  through  the  open  window. 

"  Well,  Edna,  where  have  you  been  all  day  ?" 

"  With  my  books." 

"  I  am  tired  almost  to  death  !  This  country  visiting  is 
an  intolerable  bore !  I  am  worn  out  with  small  talk  and 
backbiting.  Society  nowadays  is  composed  of  cannibals — 
infinitely  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the  Fijians — who  only 
devour  the  body  and  leave  the  character  of  an  individual 
intact.  Child,  let  us  have  some  music  by  way  of  variety. 
Play  that  symphony  of  Beethoven  that  I  heard  you  prac- 
tising last  week." 

She  laid  her  head  on  the  arm  of  the  sofa,  and  shut  her 
eyes,  and  Edna  opened  the  piano  and  played  the  piece  de- 
signated. 

The  delicacy  of  her  touch  enabled  her  to  render  it  with 
peculiar  pathos  and  power ;  and  she  })layed  on  and  on,  un- 
mindful of  Miss  Harding's  entrance — oblivious  of  every  thing 
but  the  sublime  strains  of  the  great  master. 

The  light  streamed  over  her  face,  and  showed  a  gladness, 
an  exaltation  of  expression  there,  as  if  her  soul  had  broken 
from  its  earthly  moorings,  and  was  making  its  way  joyfully 
into  the  infinite  6ea  of  eternal  love  and  blessedness. 

At  last  her  fingers  fell  from  the  keys,  and  as  she  rose 
sks  saw  Mr.  Murray  standing  outside  of  the  parlor  door, 
with  his  fingers  shading  his  eyes. 

He  came  in  soon  after,  and  his  mother  held  out  her  hand, 
saying : 

"  Here  is  a  seat,  my  son.     Have  you  just  returned  ?" 

"  No,  I  have  been  here  some  time." 

"  How  are  affairs  at  the  plantation  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  247 

"  I  really  have  no  idea." 

"  Why  ?     I  thought  you  went  there  to-day  ?" 

"  I  started;  but  found  my  horse  so  lame,  that  I  went  nc 
farther  than  town." 

"Indeed!  Hagar  told  me  you  had  not  returned,  when  I 
came  in  from  visiting." 

"  Like  some  other  people  of  my  acquaintance,  II agar 
reckons  without  her  host.  I  have  been  at  home  ever  since 
twelve  o'clock,  and  saw  the  carriage  as  you  drove  off." 

"  And  pray  how  have  you  employed  yourself,  you  incor- 
rigible ignis  fatuus  f  O  my  cousin  !  you  are  well  named. 
Aunt  Ellen  must  have  had  an  intuitive  insight  into  your 
character  when  she  had  you  christened  St.  Elmo ;  only  she 

should  have  added  the  '  Fire '      How  have  you  spent 

the  day,  sir  ?" 

"  Most  serenely  and  charmingly,  my  fair  cousin,  in  the 
solitude  of  my  den.  If  my  mother  could  give  me  satisfac- 
tory security  that  all  my  days  would  prove  as  quiet  and 
happy  as  this  has  been,  I  would  enter  into  bonds  never  to 
quit  the  confines  of  Le  Bocage  again.  Ah  !  the  indescriba- 
ble relief  of  feeling  that  nothing  was  expected  of  me ;  that 
the  galling  gyves  of  hospitality  and  etiquette  were  snapped, 
and  that  I  was  entirely  free  from  all  danger  of  intrusion. 
This  day  shall  be  marked  with  a  white  stone ;  for  I  entered 
my  rooms  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  remained  there  in  uninter- 
rupted peace  till  five  minutes  ago  ;  when  I  put  on  my  so- 
cial shackles  once  more,  and  hobbled  down  to  entertain  my 
fair  guest." 

Edna  was  arranging  some  sheets  of  music  that  were  scat- 
tered on  the  piano  ;  but  as  he  mentioned  the  hour  of  his  re- 
turn, she  remembered  that  the  clock  struck  one  just  as  she 
went  into  the  sitting-room  where  he  kept  his  books  and 
cabinets ;  and  she  knew  now  that  he  was  at  that  very  time 
in  the  inner  room,  beyond  the  arch.  She  put  her  hand  to 
her  forehead,  and  endeavored  to  recollect  the  appearance  of 
the  apartment.     The  silk  curtains,  she  was  sure,  were  hang* 


248  ST.  ELMO. 

ing  over  the  arch;  for  she  remembered  distinctly  luvkg 
noticed  a  large  and  very  beautiful  golden  butterfly  which 
had  buttered  in  from  the  terrace,  and  was  flitting  over  the 
glowing  folds  that  fell  from  the  carved  intrados  to  the  mar- 
ble floor.  But  though  screened  from  her  view,  he  must 
have  heard  and  seen  her,  as  she  sat  before  his  book-case, 
turning  his  letter  curiously  between  her  fingers. 

She  dared  not  look  up,  and  bent  down  to  examine  the 
music,  so  absorbed  in  her  own  emotions  of  chagrin  and 
astonishment,  that  she  heard  not  one  word  of  what  Miss 
Harding  was  saying.  She  felt  well  assured  that  if  Mr.  Mur- 
ray were  cognizant  of  her  visit  to  the  "  Egyptian  museum," 
he  intended  her  to  know  it,  and  she  knew  that  his  counte- 
nance would  solve  her  painful  doubt. 

Gathering  up  her  courage,  she  raised  her  eyes  quickly,  in 
the  direction  of  the  sofa,  where  he  had  thrown  himself,  and 
met  just  what  she  most  dreaded,  his  keen  gaze  riveted  on 
her  face.  Evidently  he  had  been  waiting  for  this  eager, 
startled,  questioning  glance  ;  for  instantly  he  smiled,  in- 
clined his  head  slightly,  and  arched  his  eyebrows,  as  if 
much  amused.  Never  before  had  she  seen  his  face  so 
bright  and  happy,  so  free  from  bitterness.  If  he  had  said, 
"  Yes,  I  saw  you  ;  are  you  not  thoroughly  discomfited,  and 
ashamed  of  your  idle  curiosity  ?  What  interest  can  you 
possibly  have,  in  carefully  studying  the  outside  of  my  let- 
ters ?  How  do  you  propose  to  mend  matters  ?" — he  could 
not  have  more  fully  conveyed  his  meaning.  Edna's  face 
crimsoned,  and  she  put  up  her  hand  to  shield  it ;  but  Mr. 
Murray  turned  toward  the  window,  and  coolly  discussed 
the  merits  of  a  popular  race-horse,  upon  which  Clinton 
Allston  lavished  extravagant  praise. 

Estelle  leaned  against  the  window,  listening  to  the  con- 
troversy, and  after  a  time,  when  the  subject  seemed  very 
effectually  settled  by  an  oath  from  the  master  of  the  house, 
Edna  availed  herself  of  the  lull  in  the  conversation,  to  de- 
Liver  the  letter. 


ST.  ELMO.  249 

"  Miss  Harding,  I  was  requested  to  hand  you  this." 

Estelle  broke  the  seal,  glanced  rapidly  over  the  letter,,  and 
exclaimed : 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Can  she  be  here  ?  Who  gave  you  this 
letter  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Powell,  Mr.  Hammond's  niece." 

"  Agnes  Powell  ?" 

"  Yes.     Agnes  Powell." 

During  the  next  three  minutes  one  might  have  distinctly 
heard  a  pin  fall,  for  the  ticking  of  two  watches  was  very 
audible. 

Estelle  glanced  first  at  her  cousin,  then  at  her  aunt,  then 
back  at  her  cousin.  Mrs.  Murray  involuntarily  laid  her 
hand  on  her  son's  knee,  and  watched  his  face  with  an  ex- 
pression of  breathless  anxiety ;  and  Edna  saw  that,  though 
his  lips  blanched,  not  a  muscle  moved,  not  a  nerve  twitched ; 
and  only  the  deadly  hate,  that  appeared  to  leap  into  his 
large  shadowy  eyes,  told  that  the  name  stirred  some  bitter 
memory. 

The  silence  was  growing  intolerable  when  Mr.  Murray 
turned  his  gaze  full  on  Estelle,  and  said  in  his  usual  sarcastic 
tone  : 

"  Have  you  seen  a  ghost  ?  Your  letter  must  contain  tid- 
ings of  Victor's  untimely  demise ;  for,  if  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  retribution,  such  a  personage  as  Nemesis,  I  swear  that 
poor  devil  of  a  Count  has  crept  into  her  garments  and  corne 
to  haunt  you.  Did  he  cut  his  white  womanish  throat  with 
a  penknife,  or  smother  himself  with  charcoal  fumes,  or  light 
a  poisoned  candle  and  let  his  poor  homoeopathic  soul  drift  out 
dreamily  into  eternity  ?  If  so,  Gabriel  will  require  a  power- 
ful microscope  to  find  him.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
you  destined  him  for  my  cousin,  the  little  curly  creature 
always  impressed  me  as  being  a  stray  specimen  of  an  other- 
wise extinct  type  of  intellectual  Lacrymatoria.  Is  he  really 
dead  ?  Peace  to  his  infusorial  soul !  Who  had  the  courage 
to  write  and  break  the  melancholy  tidings  to  you?     Or 


250  ST.  $LMO, 

perhaps,  after  all,  it  is  only  the  ghost  of  yo.ir  own  conscience 
that  has  brought  that  scared  look  into  your  face." 

She  laughed  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"How  insanely  jealous  you  are  of  Victor!  He's  neither 
dead  nor  dreaming  of  suicide,  but  enjoying  himself  vastly 
in  Baden-Baden.  Edna,  did  Mrs.  Powell  bring  Gertrude 
with  her  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"Do  you  know  how  long  she  intends  remaining  at  the 
parsonage  ?" 

"  I  think  her  visit  is  of  indefinite  duration." 

"Edna,  will  you  oblige  me  by  inquiring  whether  Henry 
intends  to  give  us  any  supper  to-night  ?  He  forgets  we  have 
had  no  dinner.  St.  Elmo,  do  turn  down  that  gas — the  wind 
makes  it  flare  dreadfully." 

Edna  left  the  room  to  obey  Mrs.  Murray's  command,  and 
did  not  return;  but,  after  the  party  seated  themselves  at 
the  table,  she  noticed  that  the  master  seemed  in  unusually 
high  spirits ;  and  when  the  meal  was  concluded,  he  chal- 
lenged his  cousins  to  a  game  of  billiards. 

They  repaired  to  the  rotunda,  and  Mrs.  Murray  beckoned 
to  Edna  to  follow  her.  As  they  entered  her  apartment  she 
carefully  closed  the  door. 

"  Edna,  when  did  Mrs.  Powell  arrive  ?" 

"  Last  night." 

"  Did  you  see  her  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Is  she  very  pretty  ?" 

"  She  is  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  ever  met." 

"  How  did  Mr.  Hammond  receive  her  ?" 

"  Her  visit  evidently  annoys  him,  but  he  gave  me  uo 
explanation  of  the  matter,  which  I  confess  puzzles  me.  I 
should  suppose  her  society  would  cheer  and  interest  hhn." 

"  0  pooh !  Talk  of  what  you  understand.  She  surely 
ha3  not  come  here  to  live  ?" 

"  I  think  he  fears  she  has.     She  is  rery  ooor." 


ST.  ELMO.  251 

Mrs.  Murray  set  her  teeth  together,  and  muttered  seme* 
thing  which  her  companion  did  not  understand. 

"  Edna,  is  she  handsomer  than  Estelle  ?" 

"  Infinitely  handsomer,  I  think.  Indeed,  they  are  so  to- 
tally unlike  it  would  be  impossible  to  compare  them.  Your 
niece  is  very  fine-looking,  very  commanding;  Mrs.  Powell 
is  exquisitely  beautiful." 

"  But  she  is  no  longer  young.  She  has  a  grown  daugh 
ter." 

"  True  ;  but  in  looking  at  her  you  do  not  realize  it.  Did 
you  never  see  her  ?" 

"  No  ;  and  I  trust  I  never  may  !  I  am  astonished  that 
Mr.  Hammond  can  endure  the  sight  of  her.  You  say  he 
has  told  you  nothing  about  her  ?" 

"  Nothing  which  explains  the  chagrin  her  presence  seems 
to  cause." 

"  He  is  very  wise.  But,  Edna,  avoid  her  society  as  much 
as  possible.  She  is  doubtless  very  fascinating ;  but  I  do 
not  like  what  I  have  heard  of  her,  and  prefer  that  you 
should  have  little  conversation  or  intercourse  with  her. 
On  the  whole,  you  might  as  well  stay  at  home  now  ;  it  is 
very  warm,  and  you  can  study  without  Mr.  Hammond's  as- 
sistance." 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  my  visits  must  cease  alto- 
gether ?" 

"  Oh  !  no ;  go  occasionally — once  or  twice  a  week — but 
certainly  not  every  day,  as  formerly.  And,  Edna,  be  careful 
not  to  mention  that  woman's  name  again ;  I  dislike  her 
exceedingly." 

The  orphan  longed  to  ask  for  an  explanation,  but  was  too 
proud  to  solicit  confidence  so  studiously  withheld. 

Mrs.  Murray  leaned  back  in  her  large  rocking-chair  and 
fell  into  a  reverie.  Edna  waited  patiently  for  some  time, 
and  finally  rose. 

"  Mrs.  Murray,  have  you  any  thing  more  to  say  to  me  to« 
night  ?     You  look  very  much  fatigued  !" 


252  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Nothing,  I  believe.  Good-night,  child.  Send  Ha  gar 
to  me." 

Edna  went  back  to  her  desk  and  resolutely  turned  to  hei 
work  ;  for  it  was  one  of  the  peculiar  traits  of  her  character 
that  she  could  at  will  fasten  her  thoughts  upon  whatever 
subject  she  desired  to  master.  All  irrelevant  ideas  were 
sternly  banished  until  such  season  as  she  chose  to  give  them 
audience  ;  and  to-night  she  tore  her  mind  from  the  events  of 
the  day,  and  diligently  toiled  among  the  fragments  of  Scan- 
dinavian lore  for  the  missing  links  in  her  mythologic  chain. 

Now  and  then  peals  of  laughter  from  the  billiard-room 
startled  her  ;  and  more  than  once  Mr.  Murray's  clear,  cold 
voice  rose  above  the  subdued  chatter  of  Estelle  and  Clinton. 

After  a  while  the  game  ended,  good-nights  were  ex- 
changed, the  party  dispersed,  doors  were  closed,  and  all 
grew  silent. 

While  Edna  wrote  on,  an  unexpected  sound  arrested  her 
pen.  She  listened,  and  heard  the  slow  walk  of  a  horse  be- 
neath her  window.  As  it  passed  she  rose  and  looked  out. 
The  moon  was  up,  and  Mr.  Murray  was  riding  down  the 
avenue. 

The  girl  returned  to  her  ms.,  and  worked  on  without 
intermission  for  another  hour  ;  then  the  last  paragraph  was 
carefully  punctuated,  the  long  and  difficult  chapter  was 
finished.     She  laid  aside  her  pen, and  locked  her  desk. 

Shaking  down  the  mass  of  hair  that  had  been  tightly 
coiled  at  the  back  of  her  head,  she  extinguished  the  light, 
and  drawing  a  chair  to  the  window,  seated  herself. 

Silence  and  peace  brooded  over  the  world ;  not  a  sound 
broke  the  solemn  repose  of  nature. 

The  summer  breeze  had  rocked  itself  to  rest  in  the  elm 
boughs,  and  only  the  waning  moon  seemed  alive  and  toil- 
ing as  it  climbed  slowly  up  a  cloudless  sky,  passing  starry 
sentinels  whose  nightly  challenge  was  lost  in  vast  vortices 
of  blue,  as  they  paced  their  ceaseless  rounl  in  the  mighty 
camp  of  constellations. 

With  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  gloomy,  groined  archway  of 


ST.  ELMO.  258 

elms,  where  an  occasional  slip  of  moonshine  siA  ared  the 
ground,  Edna  watched  and  waited.  The  blood  beat  heavily 
in  her  temples  and  throbbed  sullenly  at  her  heart ;  but  she 
sal  mute  and  motionless  as  the  summer  night,  reviewing  all 
that  had  occurred  during  the  day. 

Presently  the  distant  sound  of  hoofs  on  the  rocky  road 
leading  to  town  fell  upon  her  strained  ear ;  the  hard,  quick 
gallop  ceased  at  the  gate,  and  very  slowly  Mr.  Murray 
walked  his  horse  up  the  dusky  avenue,  and  on  toward  the 
stable. 

From  the  shadow  of  her  muslin  curtain,  Edna  looked 
down  on  the  walk  beneath,  and  after  a  few  moments  saw 
him  coming  to  the  house. 

He  paused  on  the  terrace,  took  off  his  hat,  swept  back 
the  thick  hair  from  his  forehead,  and  stood  looking  out 
over  the  quiet  lawn. 

Then  a  heavy,  heavy  sigh,  almost  a  moan,  seemed  to 
burst  from  the  depths  of  his  heart,  and  he  turned  and  went 
into  the  house. 

The  night  was  far  spent,  and  the  moon  had  cradled  her- 
self on  the  tree-tops,  when  Edna  raised  her  face  all  blistered 
with  tears.  Stretching  out  her  arms  she  fell  on  her  knees, 
while  a  passionate,  sobbing  prayer  struggled  brokenly 
across  her  trembling  lips  : 

"  O  my  God  !  have  mercy  upon  him  !  save  his  wretched 
soul  from  eternal  death  !  Help  me  so  to  live  and  govern 
myself  that  I  bring  no  shame  on  the  cause  of  Christ.  And 
if  it  be  thy  will,  O  my  God !  grant  that  I  may  be  instru- 
mental in  winning  this  precious  but  wandering,  sinful  soul 
back  to  the  faith  as  it  is  in  Jesus  !" 

Ah  !  verily — 

"     .     .     .     .     More  tilings  are  wroiight  by  prayer 
Than  this  world  dreams  of.    Wherefore  let  thy  voice 
Rise  like  a  fountain  for  him  night  and  day. 
For  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats, 
That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 
If,  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer 
Both  for  themselves,  and  those  who  call  them  friend  1" 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


[HERE  are  you  going,  St.  Elmo  ?  I  know  it  is 
one  of  your  amiable  decrees  that  your  move- 
ments are  not  to  be  questioned,  but  I ,  dare  to 
brave  your  ire." 

"  I  am  going  to  that  blessed  retreat  familiarly  known  as 
Murray's  den,'  where,  secure  from  feminine  intrusion,  as 
if  in  the  cool  cloisters  of  Coutloumoussi,  I  surrender  my 
happy  soul  to  science  and  cigars,  and  revel  in  complete 
forgetfulness  of  that  awful  curse  which  Jove  hurled  against 
all  mankind, because  of  Prometheus's  robbery." 

"  There  are  asylums  for  lunatics  and  inebriates,  and  I 
wonder  it  has  never  occurred  to  some  benevolent  million- 
aire to  found  one  for  such  abominable  cynics  as  you,  my 
most  angelic  cousin  !  where  the  snarling  brutes  can  only 
snap  at  and  worry  one  another." 

"  An  admirable  idea,  Estelle,  which  I  fondly  imagined  I 
had  successfully  carried  out  when  I  built  those  rooms  of 
mine." 

"  You  are  as  hateful  as  Momus,  minus  his  wit !  He  was 
kicked  out  of  heaven  for  grumbling,  and  you  richly  deserVe 
his  fate." 

"  I  have  a  vague  recollection  that  the  Goddess  Discord 
shared  the  fate  of  the  celestial  growler.  I  certainly  plead 
guilty  to  an  earnest  sympathy  with  Momus's  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  house  that  Minerva  built,  and  only  wish  that 
mine  was  movable,  as  he  recommended,  in  order  to  escape 
had  neighborhoods  and  tiresome  companions." 


ST.  ELMO.  255 

"  Hospitable,  upon  my  word !  You  spin  some  spiteful 
idea  out  of  every  sentence  I  utter,  and  are  not  ever,  entitled 
to  the  compliment  which  Chesterfield  paid  old  Samuel  John- 
son, '  The  utmost  I  can  do  for  him  is  to  consider  him  a  i re- 
spectable Hottentot.'  If  I  did  not  know  that  instead  of 
proving  a  punishment  it  would  gratify  you  beyond  measure, 
I  would  take  a  vow  not  to  speak  to  you  again  for  a  month  ; 
but  the  consciousness  of  the  happiness  I  should  thereby  bestow 
upon  you  vetoes,the  resolution.  Do  you  know  that  even  a 
Comanche  chief,  or  a  Bechuana  of  the  desert,  shames  your 
inhospitality  ?  I  assure  you  I  am  the  victim  of  hopeless 
ennui,  am  driven  to  the  verge  of  desperation ;  for  Mr.  All 
ston  will  probably  not  return  until  to-morrow,  and  it  is 
raining  so  hard  that  I  can  not  wander  out  of  doors.  Here 
I  am  shut  up  in  this  dreary  house,  which  reminds  me  of  the 
descriptions  of  that  doleful  retreat  for  sinners  in  Normandy, 
where  the  inmates  pray  eleven  hours  a  day,  dig  their  own 
graves  every  evening,  and  if  they  chance  to  meet  one 
another,  salute  each  other  with  ''Memento  mori  /'  Ugh  ! 
if  there  remains  one  latent  spark  of  chivalry  in  your  soul, 
I  beseech  you  be  merciful !  Do  not  go  off  to  your  den,  but 
stay  here  and  entertain  me.  It  is  said  that  you  read  be- 
witchingly,  and  with  unrivalled  effect ;  pray  favor  me  this 
morning.  I  will  promise  to  lay  my  hand  on  my  lips  ;  is  it 
not  white  enough  for  a  flag  of  truce  ?  I  will  be  meek, 
amiable,  docile,  absolutely  silent." 

Estelle  swept  aside  a  mass  of  papers  from  the  corner  of 
the  sofa,  and,  taking  Mr.  Murray's  hand,  drew  him  to  a 
seqt  beside  her. 

"  Your  '  amiable  silence,'  my  fair  cousin,  is  but  a  cun- 
ningly fashioned  wooden  horse.  Timeo  Danaos  et  dona 
ferentes  !  I  am  to  understand  that  you  actually  offer  mo 
your  hand  as  a  flag  of  truce?  It  is  wonderfully  white  and 
pretty ;  but  excuse  me,  Cest  une  main  de  fer,  c/antee  de 
velours/  Your  countenance,  so  serenely  radiant,  reminds 
me  of  what  Madame  Noblet  said  of  M.  de  Vitri,  '  His  face 


256  ST.  ELMO. 

looked  just  like  a  stratagem  /'  Reading  aloud  is  a  pracuce  ia 
which  I  never  indulge,  simply  because  I  cordially  detest  it 
and  knowing  this  fact,  it  is  a  truly  feminine  refinement  of 
cruelty  on  your  part  to  select  this  mode  of  penance.  Never- 
theless, you  appeal  to  my  chivalry,  which  always  springs 
up,  armed  cap-a-pie  '  to  do  or  die ;'  and  since  read  I  must, 
I  only  stipulate  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  select  my  book. 
Just  now  I  am  profoundly  interested  in  a  French  work  on 
infusoria,  by  Dujardin ;  and  as  you  have  probably  not 
studied  it,  I  will  select  those  portions  which  treat  of  the 
animalcula  that  inhabit  grains  of  sugar  and  salt  and  drops 
of  water ;  so  that  by  the  time  lunch  is  ready,  your  appetite 
will  be  whetted  by  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  your  re- 
past. According  to  Leeuwenhoek,  Miiller,  Gleichen,  and 
others,  the  campaigns  of  Zenzis-Khan,  Alexander,  Attila, 
were  not  half  so  murderous  as  a  single  fashionable  dinner  ; 
and  the  battle  of  Marengo  was  a  farce  in  comparison  with 
the  swallowing  of  a  cup  of  tea,  which  contains " 

"  For  shame,  you  tormentor  !  when  you  know  that  I  love 
tea  as  well  as  did  your  model  of  politeness,  Dr.  Johnson ! 
Not  one  line  of  all  that  nauseating  scientific  stuff  shall  you 
read  to  me.  Here  is  a  volume  of  poems  of  the  '  Female 
Poets ;'  do  be  agreeable  for  once  in  your  life,  and  select 
me  some  sweet  little  rhythmic  gem  of  Mrs.  Browning,  or 
Mrs.  Norton,  or  L.  E.  L." 

"  Estelle,  did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Peishwah  of  the  Mah- 
rattas  ?" 

"  I  most  assuredly  never  had  even  a  hint  of  a  syllable  on 
the  subject.     What  of  him,  her,  or  it  ?" 

"  Enough,  that  though  you  are  evidently  ambitious  of 
playing  his  despotic  role  at  Le  Bocage,  you  will  never  suc- 
ceed in  reducing  me  to  that  condition  of  abject  subjuga- 
tion necessary  to  make  me  endure  the  perusal  of  '  female 
poetry.'  I  have  always  desired  an  opportunity  of  voting 
my  cordial  thanks  to  the  wit  who  expressed  so  felicitously 
my  own  thorough  conviction,  that  Pegasus  has  an  uncou< 


ST.  ELMO.  257 

querable  repugnance,  hatred,  to  side-saddles.  Yc.u  vow 
you  will  not  listen  to  science ;  and  I  swear  I  won't  read 
poetry !  Suppose  we  compromise  on  this  new  number 
of  the Magazine  ?  It  is  the  ablest  periodical  pub- 
lished in  this  country.  Let  me  see  the  contents  of  this 
number." 

It  was  a  dark,  rainy  morning  in  July.  Mrs.  Murray  was 
winding  a  quantity  of  zephyr  wool,  of  various  bright  colors, 
which  she  had  requested  Edna  to  hold  in  her  hands  ;  and 
at  the  mention  of  the  magazine  the  latter  looked  up  sud- 
denly at  the  master  of  the  house. 

Holding  his  cigar  between  his  thumb  and  third  finger, 
his  eye  ran  over  the  table  of  contents. 

"  '  Who  smote  the  Marble  Gk>ds  of  Greece  V  Humph  ! 
rather  a  difficult  question  to  answer  after  the  lapse  of 
twenty-two  centuries.  But  doubtless  our  archaeologists  are 
so  much  wiser  than  the  Athenian  Senate  of  Five  Hundred, 
who  investigated  the  affair  the  day  after  it  happened,  that 
a  perusal  will  be  exceedingly  edifying.  Now,  then,  for  a 
solution  of  this  classic  mystery  of  the  nocturnal  iconoclasm ; 
which,  in  my  humble  opinion,  only  the  brazen  lips  of  Mi- 
nerva Promachus  could  satisfactorily  explain." 

Turning  to  the  article  he  read  it  aloud,  without  pausing 
to  comment,  while  Edna's  heart  bounded  so  rapidly  that  she 
could  scarcely  conceal  her  agitation.  It  was,  indeed,  a  treat 
to  listen  to  him ;  and  as  his  musical  voice  filled  the  room, 
she  thought  of  Jean  Paul  Richter's  description  of  Goethe's 
reading:  "There  is  nothing  comparable  to  it.  It  is  like 
deep-toned  thunder  blended  with  whispering  rain-drops." 

But  the  orphan's  pleasure  was  of  short  duration,  and  as 
Mr.  Murray  concluded  the  perusal,  he  tossed  the  magazine 
contemptuously  across  the  room,  and  exclaimed : 

"Pretentious  and  shallow!  A  tissue  of  pedantry  and 
error  from  beginning  to  end — written,  I  will  wager  my 
head,  by  some  scribbler  who  never  saw  Athens  !  Moreover, 
the  whole  article  is  based  upon  a  glaring  blunder ;  for,  ao 


258  ST-  zlmo. 

cording  to  Plutarch  and  Diodorus,  on  the  memorable  nigh  I 
in  question  there  was  a  new  moon.  Pshaw  !  it  is  a  taste- 
less, insipid  plagiarism  from  Grote  ;  and  if  I  am  to  be  bored 
with  such  insufferable  twaddle,  I  will  stop  my  subscription. 
For  some  time  I  have  noticed  symptoms  of  deterioration, 
but  this  is  altogether  intolerable  ;  and  I  shall  write  to  Man- 
ning that,  if  he  can  not  do  better,  it  would  be  advisable  for 
him  to  suspend  at  once  before  his  magazine  loses  its  reputa- 
tion. If  I  were  not  aware  that  his  low  estimate  of  female 
intellect  coincides  fully  with  my  own,  I  should  be  tempted 
to  s appose  that  some  silly  but  ambitious  woman  wrote  that 
stuff,  which  sounds  learned  and  is  simply  stupid." 

He  did  not  even  glance  toward  Edna,  but  the  peculiar 
emphasis  of  his  words  left  no  doubt  in  her  mind  that  he 
suspected,  nay,  felt  assured,  that  she  was  the  luckless 
auihor.  Raising  her  head  which  had  been  drooped  over 
the  woolen  skeins,  she  said,  firmly  yet  very  quietly  : 

"  If  you  will  permit  me  to  differ  with  you.  Mr.  Murray, 
I  will  say  that  it  seems  to  me  all  the  testimony  is  in  favor 
of  the  full-moon  theory.  Besides,  Grote  is  the  latest  and 
best  authority ;  he  has  carefully  collected  and  sifted  the 
evidence,  and  certainly  sanctions  the  position  taken  by  the 
author  of  the  article  which  you  condemn." 

"  Ah  !  how  long  since  you  investigated  the  matter  ?  The 
affair  is  so  essentially  paganish  that  I  should  imagine  it 
possessed  no  charm  for  so  orthodox  a  Christian  as  yourself. 
Estelle,  what  say  you,  concerning  this  historic  sphinx  ?" 

"  That  I  am  blissfully  ignorant  of  the  whole  question, 
and  have  a  vague  impression  that  it  is  not  worth  the  paper 
it  is  written  on,  much  less  a  quarrel  with  you,  Monsieui 
'Le  Hutin;'  that  it  is  the  merest  matter  of  moonshine — new 
moon  versus  full  moon,  and  must  have  been  written  by  a 
lunatic.  But,  my  Chevalier  Bayard,  one  thing  I  do  intend 
to  say  most  decidedly,  and  that  is,  that  your  lunge  at  female 
intellect  was  as  unnecessary  and  ill-timed  and  ill-bred  as 
it  was  ill-natured.     The  mental  equality  of  the  sexes  is  now 


ST.  ELMO.  259 

as  unquestioned,  as  universally  admitted,  as  any  c  ther  well° 
established  fact  in  science  or  history ;  and  the  sooner  you 
men  gracefully  concede  us  our  rights,  the  sooner  we  shall 
cease  wrangling,  and  settle  back  into  our  traditional  amia- 
bility." 

"  The  universality  of  the  admission  I  should  certainly 
deny,  were  the  subject  of  sufficient  importance  to  justify  a 
discussion.  However,  I  have  been  absent  so  long  from 
America,  that  I  confess  my  ignorance  of  the  last  social 
advance  in  the  striding  enlightenment  of  this  most  pro- 
gressive people.  According  to  Moleschott's  celebrated 
dictum — '  Without  phosphorus  no  thought,'  and  if  there  be 
any  truth  in  physiology  and  phrenology,  you  women  have 
been  stinted  by  nature  in  the  supply  of  phosphorus.  Pea- 
cock's measurements  prove  that  in  the  average  weight  of 
male  and  female  brains,  you  fall  below  our  standard  by  not 
less  than  six  ounces.  I  should  conjecture  that  in  the  scales 
of  equality  six  ounces  of  ideas  would  turn  the  balance  in 
favor  of  our  superiority." 

"If  you  reduce  it  to  a  mere  question  of  avoirdupois, 
please  be  so  good  as  to  remember  that  even  greater  differ- 
ence exists  among  men.  For  instance,  your  brain  (which 
is  certainly  not  considered  over  average)  weighs  from  three 
to  three  and  a  half  pounds,  while  Cuvier's  brain  weighed 
over  four  pounds,  giving  him  the  advantage  of  more  than 
eight  ounces  over  our  household  oracle!  Accidental  differ 
ence  in  brain  weight  proves  nothing ;  for  you  will  not  admit 
your  mental  inferiority  to  any  man,  simply  because  his  head 
requires  a  larger  hat  than  yours." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  always  bow  before  facts,  no  matter  how 
unflattering,  and  I  consider  one  of  Cuvier's  ideas  worthy  of 
just  exactly  eight  degrees  more  of  reverence  than  any 
phosphorescent  sparkle  which  I  might  choose  to  hold  xip  foi 
public  acceptance  and  guidance.  Without  doubt,  the  most 
thoroughly  ludicrous  scene  I  ever  witnessed  was  furnished 
by  a  '  woman's  rights'  meeting,'  which  I  looked  in  upoa 


260  ST-  elmo. 

one  night  in  New- York,  as  I  returned  from  Europe.  The 
speaker  was  a  raw-boned,  wiry,  angular,  short-h  ured, 
lemon-visaged  female  of  uncertain  age  ;  with  a  hand  like 
a  bronze  gauntlet,  and  a  voice  as  distracting  as  the  shrill 
squeak  of  a  cracked  cornet-a-piston.  Over  the  wrongs  and 
grievances  of  her  down-trodden,  writhing  sisterhood  she 
ranted  and  raved  and  howled,  gesticulating  the  while  with 
a  marvelous  grace,  which  I  can  compare  only  to  the  antics 
of  those  inspired  goats  who  strayed  too  near  the  Pythian 
cave,  and  were  thrown  into  convulsions.  Though  I  pulled 
my  hat  over  my  eyes  and  clapped  both  hands  to  my  ears, 
as  I  rushed  out  of  the  hall  after  a  stay  of  five  minutes,  the 
vision  of  horror  followed  me,  and  for  the  first  and  only  time 
in  my  life,  I  had  such  a  hideous  nightmare  that  night,  that 
the  man  who  slept  in  the  next  room  broke  open  my  door 
to  ascertain  who  was  strangling  me.  Of  all  my  pet  aver- 
sions my  most  supreme  abhorrence  is  of  what  are  denomi- 
nated '  gifted  women  ;'  strong-minded,  (that  is,  weak-brained 
but  loud-tongued,)  would-be  literary  females,  who,  puffed  up 
with  insufferable  conceit,  imagine  they  rise  to  the  diguity 
and  height  of  man's  intellect,  proclaim  that  their  '  mission' 
is  to  write  or  lecture,  and  set  themselves  up  as  shining 
female  lights,  each  aspiring  to  the  rank  of  protomartyr  of 
reform.  Heaven  grant  us  a  Bellerophon  to  relieve  the  age 
of  these  noisy  Amazons  !  I  should  really  enjoy  seeing  them 
tied  down  to  their  spinning-wheels,  and  gagged  with  their 
own  books,  magazines,  and  lectures  !  When  I  was  abroad 
and  contrasted  the  land  of  my  birth  with  those  I  visited, 
the  only  thing  for  which,  as  an  American,  I  felt  myself 
called  on  to  blush,  was  my  countrywomen.  An  insolent 
young  count  who  had  traveled  through  the  Eastern  and 
Northern  States  of  America,  asked  me  one  day  in  Berlin,  if 
it  were  really  true  that  the  male  editors,  lawyers,  doctors, 
and  lecturers  in  the  United  States  were  contemplating  a 
hegira,  in  consequence  of  the  rough  el  bowing  by  the  women, 
and  if  I  could  inform  him  at  what  age  the  New-England 


-ST.  ELMO.  261 

girls  generally  commenced  writing  learned  aiticlei,  and.  af- 
fixing LL.D.,  F.E.S.,  F.S.A.,  and  M.M.S.S.  to  their  signa- 
tures  ?  Whereupon  I  kicked  his  inquisitive  lordship  down 
the  steps  of  the  hotel,  and  informed  him  that  though  I 
might  possibly  resemble  an  American,  I  rejoiced  in  being 
a  native  of  Crim  Tartary,  where  the  knowledge  of  woman 
is  confined  exclusively  to  the  roasting  of  horse-flesh  and  the 
preparation  of  most  delicious  kimis." 

" '  Lay  on,  Macduff!'  I  wish  you  distinctly  to  understand 
that  my  toes  are  not  bruised  in  the  slightest  degree ;  for  I 
am  entirely  innocent  of  any  attempt  at  erudition  or  author- 
ship, and  the  sole  literary  dream  of  my  life  is  to  improve  the 
present  popular  receipt  for  biscuit  glace.  But  mark  you, 
'  Sir  Oracle,'  I  must  '  ope  my  lips '  and  bark  a  little  under 
my  breath  at  your  inconsistencies.  Now  if  there  are  two 
living  men  whom,  above  all  others,  you  swear  by,  they  are 
John  Stuart  Mill  and  John  Ruskin.  Well  do  I  recollect 
your  eulogy  of  both,  on  that  ever-memorable  day  in  Paris 

when  we  dined  with  that  French  encyclopedia,  Count  W , 

and  the  leading  lettered  men  of  the  day  were  discussed.  I 
was  frightened  out  of  my  wits,  and  dared  not  raise  my  eyes 
higher  than  the  top  of  my  wine-glass,  lest  I  should  be 
asked  my  opinion  of  some  book  or  subject  of  which  I  had 
never  even  heard,  and  in  trying  to  appear  well-educated 
make  as  horrible  a  blunder  as  poor  Madame  Talleyrand 
committed,  when  she  talked  to  Denon  about  his  man  Fri- 
day, believing  that  he  wrote  '  Robinson  Crusoe.'  At  that 
time  I  had  never  read  either  Mill  or  Ruskin ;  but  my  pro- 
found reverence  for  the  wisdom  of  your  opinions  taught  me 
how  shamefully  ignorant  I  was,  and  thus,  to  fit  myself  for 
your  companionship,  I  immediately  bought  their  books.  Lo, 
to  my  indescribable  amazement,  I  found  that  Mill  claimed 
for  women  what  I  never  once  dreamed  we  were  worthy  of — 
not  only  equality,  but  the  right  of  suffrage.  He,  the  fore- 
most dialectician  of  England  and  the  most  learned  of  poli- 
tical  economists,  demands  that,  for  the  sake  of  equity  and 


262  ST-  elmo. 

1  social  improvement,'  we  women  (minus  the  required  &ix 
ounces  of  brains)  should  be  allowed  to  vote.  Behold  the 
Corypheus  of  the  '  woman's  rights '  school !  Were  I  to 
follow  his  teachings,  I  should  certainly  begin  to  clamor  foi 
my  right  of  suffrage — for  the  ladylike  privilege  of  elbowing 
you  away  from  the  ballot-box  at  the  next  election." 

"  I  am  quite  as  far  from  admitting  the  infallibility  of 
man  as  the  equality  of  the  sexes.  The  clearest  thinkers  of 
the  world  have  had  soft  spots  in  their  brains  ;  for  instance, 
the  daemon  belief  of  Socrates  and  the  ludicrous  superstitions 
of  Pythagoras ;  and  you  have  laid  your  finger  on  the  soft- 
ened spot  in  Mill's  skull,  '  suffrage.'  That  is  a  jaded,  spa- 
vined hobby  of  his,  and  he  is  too  shrewd  a  logician  to  in- 
volve himself  in  the  inconsistency  of  '  extended  suffrage ' 
which  excludes  women.  When  I  read  his  '  Representative 
Government'  I  saw  that  his  reason  had  dragged  anchor,  the 
prestige  of  his  great  name  vanished,  and  I  threw  the  book 
into  the  fire' and  eschewed  him  henceforth.     Sic  transit.'''' 

Here  Mrs.  Murray  looked  up  and  said : 

"  John  Stuart  Mill — let  me  see — Edna,  is  he  not  the  man 
who  wrote  that  touching  dedication  of  one  of  his  books  to 
his  wife's  memory  ?  You  quoted  it  for  me  a  few  days  ago, 
and  said  that  you  had  committed  it  -to  memory  because  it 
was  such  a  glowing  tribute  to  the  intellectual  capacity  of 
woman.  My  dear,  I  wish  you  would  repeat  it  now ;  I  should 
like  to  hear  it  again." 

With  her  fingers  full  of  purple  woolen  skeins,  and  her 
eyes  bent  down,  Edna  recited,  in  a  low,  sweet  voice  the 
most  eloquent  panegyric  which  man's  heart  ever  pronounced 
on  woman's  intellect : 

'  To  the  beloved  and  deplored  memory  of  her  who  was 
the  inspirer,  and  in  part,  the  author,  of  all  that  is  best  in  my 
writings,  the  friend  and  wife  whose  exalted  sense  of  truth 
und  right  was  my  strongest  incitement  and  whose  approba- 
tion was  my  chief  reward,  I  dedicate  this  volume.  Like  all 
that  I  have  written  for  many  years,  it  belongs  as  much  to 


ST.  ELMO.  283 

her  as  to  me ;  but  the  work  as  it  stands  has  had,  in  a  rery 
insufficient  degree,  the  inestimable  advantage  of  her  rt  vision ; 
some  of  the  most  important  portions  having  been  reserved 
for  a  more  careful  reexamination,  which  they  are  now  never 
destined  to  receive.  "Were  I  but  capable  of  interpreting  to 
the  world  one  half  the  great  thoughts  and  noble  feelings 
which  are  buried  in  her  grave,  I  should  be  the  medium  of  a 
greater  benefit  to  it  than  is  ever  likely  to  arise  from  any 
thing  that  I  can  write  unprompted  and  unassisted  by  her 
all  but  unrivalled  wisdom." 

"Where  did  you  find  that  dedication?"  asked  Mr.  Mur- 
ray. 

"  In  Mill's  book  on  Liberty." 

"  It  is  not  in  my  library." 

"  I  borrowed  it  from  Mr.  Hammond." 

"  Strange  that  a  plant  so  noxious  should  be  permitted  in 
such  a  sanctified  atmosphere  !  Do  you  happen  to  recollect 
the  following  sentences  ?  '  I  regard  utility  as  the  ultimate 
appeal  on  all  ethical  questions  !'  '  There  is  a  Greek  ideal 
of  self-development  which  the  Platonic  and  Christian  ideal 
of  self-government  blends  with  but  does  not  supersede.  It 
may  be  better  to  be  a  John  Knox  than  an  Alcibiades,  but  it 
is  better  to  be  a  Pericles  than  either.'  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  They  occur  in  the  same  book ;  but,  Mr.  Mur- 
ray, I  have  been  advised  by  my  teacher  to  bear  always  in 
mind  that  noble  maxim,  'I  can  tolerate  every  thing  else 
but  eveiy  other  man's  intolerance ;'  and  it  is  with  his  con- 
sent and  by  his  instructions  that  I  go  like  Ruth,  gleaning 
in  the  great  fields  of  literature." 

"  Take  care  you  don't  find  Boaz  instead  of  barley ! 
After  all,  the  universal  mania  for  match-making  schemes, 
and  manoeuvers  which  continually  stir  society  from  its 
dregs  to  the  painted  foam-bubble  dancing  on  its  crested 
wave,  is  peculiar  to  no  age  or  condition,  but  is  an  immemo- 
rial and  hereditary  female  proclivity ;  for  I  defy  Paris  or 
London  to  furnish  a  more  perfectly  developed  specimen  of 


264  ST.   VLMO. 

a  *  manoeuvring  mamma '  than  was  crafty  Naomi,  when  she 
sent  that  pretty  little  Moabitish  widow  out  husband-hunt- 
ing." 

"  I  heartily  wish  she  was  only  here  to  outwit  you !" 
laughed  his  cousin,  nestling  her  head  against  his  arm  as 
they  sat  together  on  the  sofa. 

"  Who  ?    The  widow  or  the  match-maker  ?" 

"  Oh !  the  match-maker,  of  course.  There  is  more  than  one 
Ruth  already  in  the  field." 

The  last  clause  was  whispered  so  low  that  only  St.  Elmo 
heard  it,  and  any  other  woman  but  Estelle  Harding  would 
have  shrunk  away  in  utter  humiliation  from  the  eye  and  the 
voice  that  answered : 

"  Yourself  and  Mrs.  Powell !  Eat  Boaz's  barley  as  long 
as  you  like — nay,  divide  Boaz's  broad  fields  between  you ; 
an  you  love  your  lives,  keep  out  of  Boaz's  way." 

"  You  ought  both  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves.  I  am 
surprised  at  you,  Estelle,  to  encourage  St.  Elmo's  irrever- 
ence," said  Mrs.  Murray  severely. 

"  I  am  sure,  Aunt  Ellen,  I  am  just  as  much  shocked  as 
you  are ;  but  when  he  does  not  respect  even  your  opinions, 
how  dare  I  presume  to  hope  he  will  show  any  deference  to 
mine  ?  St.  Elmo,  what  think  you  of  the  last  Sibylline  leaves 
of  your  favorite  Ruskin  ?  In  looking  over  his  new  book, 
I  was  surprised  to  find  this  strong  assertion  .  .  .  Here 
is  the  volume  now — listen  to  this,  will  you  ?" 

"  '  Shakespeare  has  no  heroes  ;  he  has  only  heroines.  In 
his  labored  and  perfect  plays,  you  find  no  hero,  but  almost 
always  a  perfect  woman;  steadfast  in  grave  hope  and 
enorless  purpose.  The  catastrophe  of  every  play  is  caused 
always  by  the  folly  or  fault  of  a  man ;  the  redemption, 
if  there  be  any,  is  by  the  wisdom  and  virtue  of  a  woman , 
and  failing  that,  there  is  none !'  " 

"  For  instance,  Lady  Macbeth,  Ophelia,  Regan,  Goneril, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  Petruchio's  sweet  and  gentle  Kate  I 
De  gmtibus  /"  answered  Mr.  Murray. 


ST.  ELMO.  265 

"Those  are  the  exceptions,  and  of  course  you  pounce 
upon  them.  Ruskin  continues :  '  In  all  cases  with  Scott,  as 
with  Shakespeare,  it  is  the  woman  who  watches  over,  teaches 
and  guides  the  youth  ;  it  is  never  by  any  chance  the  man 
who  watches  over  or  educates  her ;  and  thus '  " 

"  Meg  Merrilies,  Madge  Wildfire,  Mause  Headrigg,  Effie 
Deans,  and  Rob  Roy's  freckle-faced,  red-haired,  angelic 
Helen  !"  interrupted  her  cousin. 

"  Don't  be  rude,  St.  Elmo.  You  fly  in  my  face  like  an  ex- 
asperated wasp.  I  resume  :  '  Dante's  great  poem  is  a  song 
of  praise  for  Beatrice's  watch  over  his  soul ;  she  saves  him 
from  hell,  and  leads  him  star  by  star  up  into  heaven — '  " 

"Permit  me  to  suggest  that  conjugal  devotion  should 
have  led  him  to  apostrophize  the  superlative  charms  of  his 
own  wife,  Gemma,  from  whom  he  was  forced  to  separate ; 
and  that  his  vision  of  hell  was  a  faint  reflex  of  his  domestic 
felicity." 

"  Mask  your  battery,  sir,  till  I  finish  this  page,  which  I 
am  resolved  you  shall  hear :  '  Greek  literature  proves  the 
same  thing,  as  witness  the  devoted  tenderness  of  Andro- 
mache, the  wisdom  of  Cassandra,  the  domestic  excellence 
of  Penelope,  the  love  of  Antigone,  the  resignation  of  Iphi- 
genia,  the  faithfulness   of '  " 

"  Allow  me  to  assist  him  in  completing  the  list :  the 
world-renowned  constancy  of  Helen  to  Menelaus,  the  de- 
votion of  Clytemnestra  to  her  Agamemnon,  the  subli-me 
filial  affection  of  Medea^  and  the  bewitching " 

"  Hush,  sir !  Aunt  Ellen,  do  call  hiiu  to  order  !  I  will  have 
a  hearing,  and  I  close  the  argument  by  the  unanswerable 
assertion  of  Ruskin  :  '  That  the  Egyptians  and  Greeks  (the 
most  civilized  of  the  ancients)  both  gave  to  their  spirit  of 
wisdom  the  form  of  a  woman,  and  for  symbols,  the  weaver's 
ghuttle  and  the  olive  !'  " 

"An  inevitable  consequence  of  the  fact,  that  they  consid- 
ered wisdom  as  synonymous  with  sleepless  and  unscrupu- 
lous cunning !    Schiller  declares  that  *  man  depicts  himself 


266  §T.  ELMO. 

in  his  gods ;'  and  even  a  cursory  inspection  of  the  classics 
proves  that  all  the  abhorred  and  hideous  ideas  of  the  an- 
cients were  personified  by  women.  Pluto  was  affable,  and 
beneficent,  and  gentlemanly,  in  comparison  with  Brimo  : 
ditto  might  be  said  of  Loke  and  Hela,  and  the  most  appall- 
ing idea  that  ever  attacked  the  brain  of  mankind,  found 
incarnation  in  the  Fates  and  Furies,  who  are  always  wo- 
men. Unfortunately  the  mythologies  of  the  world  crys- 
tallized before  the  age  of  chivalry,  and  a  little  research  will 
establish  the  unflattering  fact  that  human  sins  and  woes  are 
traced  primarily  to  female  agency ;  while  it  is  patent  that 
all  the  rows  and  "squabbles' that  disgraced  Olympus  were 
stirred  up  by  scheming  goddesses  !" 

"  Thank  heaven  !  here  comes  Mr.  Allston ;  I  can  smooth 
the  ruffled  plumes  of  my  self-love  in  his  sunny  smiles,  and 
forget  your  growls.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Allston ;  what 
happy  accident  brought  you  again  so  soon  to  Le  Bocage 
and  its  disconsolate  inmates  ?" 

Edna  picked  up  the  magazine  which  lay  in  one  corner, 
and  made  her  escape. 

The  gratification  arising  from  the  acceptance  and  prompt 
publication  of  her  essay,  was  marred  by  Mr.  Murray's  sneer 
ing  comments  ;  but  still  her  heart  was  happier  than  it  had 
been  for  many  weeks,  and  as  she  turned  to  the  Editors' 
Table  and  read  a  few  lines  complimenting  "  the  article  of  a 
new  contributor,"  and  promising  another  from  the  same 
pen,  for  the  ensuing  month,  her  face  flushed  joyfully. 

While  she  felt  it  difficult  to  realize  that  her  writings  had 
found  favor  in  Mr.  Manning's  critical  eyes,  she  thanked 
God  that  she  was  considered  worthy  of  communicating  with 
her  race  through  the  medium  of  a  magazine  so  influential 
and  celebrated.  She  thought  it  probable  that  Mr.  Man- 
ning had  written  her  a  few  lines,  and  wondered  whether  at 
that  moment  a  letter  was  not  hidden  in  St.  Elmo's  pocket. 

Taking  the  magazine,  she  went  into  Mrs.  Murray's  room, 
and  found  her  resting  on  a  lounge.     Her  face  wore  a  trou 


ST.  ELMO.  267 

bled  exDression,  and  Edna  saw  traces  of  tears  on  the  pil« 
low. 

"  Come  in,  child ;  I  was  just  thinking  of  you." 

She  put  out  her  hand,  drew  the  girl  to  a  seat  near  the 
lounge,  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Murray,  I  am  very,  very  happy,  and  I  have 
come  to  make  a  confession  and  ask  your  congratulations." 

She  knelt  down  beside  her,  and,  taking  the  white  fingers 
of  her  benefactress,  pressed  her  forehead  against  them. 

"A  confession,  Edna !     "What  have  you  done  ?" 

Mrs.  Murray  started  up  and  lifted  the  blushing  face. 

"  Some  time  ago  you  questioned  me  concerning  some 
letters  which  excited  your  suspicion,  and  which  I  promised 
to  explain  at  some  future  day.  I  dare  say  you  will  think 
me  very  •presumptuous  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  been  as- 
piring to  authorship  ;  that  I  was  corresponding  with  Mr. 
Manning  on  the  subject  of  some  MS.  which  I  had  sent  for 
his  examination,  and  now  I  have  come  to  show  you  what  I 
have  been  doing.     You  heard  Mr.  Murray  read  an  essay 

this  morning  from  the Magazine,  which  he  ridiculed 

very  bitterly,  but  which  Mr.  Manning  at  least  thought 
worthy  of  a  place  in  his  pages.  Mrs.  Murray,  I  wrote  that 
article." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Who  assisted  you — who  revised  it  ? 
Mr.  Hammond  ?  I  did  not  suppose  that  you,  my  child, 
could  ever  write  so  elegantly,  so  gracefully." 

"  ISTo  one  saw  the  ms.  until  Mr.  Manning  gave  it  to  the 
printers.  I  wished  to  surprise  Mr.  Hammond,  and  there- 
fore told  him  nothing  of  my  ambitious  scheme.  I  was  very 
apprehensive  that  I  should  fail,  and  for  that  reason  was  un- 
willing to  acquaint  you  with  the  precise  subject  of  the  cor- 
respondence until  I  was  sure  of  success,  O  Mrs.  Murray ! 
I  have  no  mother,  and  feeling  that  I  owe  every  thing  to  you 
— that  without  your  generous  aid  and  protection  I  should 
never  have  been  able  to  accomplish  this  one  hope  of  my 
life,  I  come  to  you  to  share  my  triumph,  for  I  know  you 


268  ST.  ELMO. 

will  fully  sympathize  with  me.  Here  is  the  magazine  con- 
taining Mr.  Manning's  praise  of  my  work,  and  here  are  the 
letters  which  I  was  once  so  reluctant  to  put  into  your 
hands.  When  I  asked  you  to  trust  me,  you  did  so  nobly 
and  freely ;  and  thanking  you  more  than  my  feeble  words 
can  express,  I  want  to  show  you  that  I  was  not  unworthy 
of  your  confidence." 

She  laid  magazine  and  letters  on  Mrs.  Murray's  lap,  and 
in  silence  the  proud,  reserved  woman  wound  her  arms 
tightly  around  the  orphan,  pressing  the  bright  young  face 
against  her  shoulder,  and  resting  her  own  cheek  on  the 
girl's  fair  forehead. 

The  door  was  j)artially  ajar,  and  at  that  instant  St.  Elmo 
entered. 

He  stopped,  looked  at  the  kneeling  figure  locked  so 
closely  in  his  mother's  arms,  and  over  his  stern  face  broke 
a  light  that  transformed  it  into  such  beauty  as  Lucifer's 
might   have   worn  before   his  sin  and  banishment,  when 

God— 

"  '  Lucifer' — kindly  said  as  '  Gabriel,' 
'  Lucifer' — soft  as  '  Michael ' ;  while  serene 
He,  standing  in  the  glory  of  the  lamps, 
Answered,  '  My  Father,'  innocent  of  shame 
And  of  the  sense  of  thunder !  " 

Yearningly  he  extended  his  arms  toward  the  two,  who,  ab- 
sorbed in  their  low  talk,  were  unconscious  of  his  presence; 
then  the  hands  fell  heavily  to  his  side,  the  brief  smile  was 
swallowed  up  by  scowling  shadows,  and  he  turned  silently 
away  and  went  to  his  own  gloomy  rooms. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


RS.  POWELL  and  her   daughter,   to  see  Miss 
Estelle  and  Miss  Edna." 

"  Why  did  not  you  say  we  were  at  dinner  ?" 
cried    Mrs.   Murray    impatiently,   darting    an 
angry  glance  at  the  servant. 

"  I  did,  ma'am,  but  they  said  they  would  wait." 

As  Estelle  folded  up  her  napkin  and  slipped  it  into  the 
silver  ring,  she  looked  furtively  at  St.  Elmo,  who,  holding 
up  a  bunch  of  purple  grapes,  said  in  an  indifferent  tone  to 
his  mother  : 

"The vineyards  of  Axarquia  show  nothing  more  perfect. 
This  cluster  might  challenge  comparison  with  those  from 
which  Red  Hermitage  is  made,  and  the  seeds  of  which  are 
said  to  have  been  brought  from  Schiraz.  Even  on  the 
sunny  slopes  of  Cyprus  and  Naxos  I  found  no  finer  grapes 
than  these.  A  propos !  I  want  a  basketful  this  afternoon. 
Henry,  tell  old  Simon  to  gather  them  immediately." 

"  Pray  what  use  have  you  for  them  ?  I  am  sure  the 
courteous  idea  of  sending  them  as  a  present  never  could 
have  forced  an  entrance  into  your  mind,  much  less  have 
carried  the  outworks  of  your  heart !  " 

As  his  cousin  spoke  she  came  to  the  back  of  his  chair  and 
leaned  over  his  shoulder. 

"  I  shall  go  out  on  the  terrace  and  renew  the  obsolete 
Dionysia,  shouting  '  Evoe  /•  Meleus  !  '  I  shall  crown  and 
pelt  my  marble  Bacchus  yonder   with  the  grapes  till  his 


270  ST.  ELMO. 

dainty  sculptured  limbs  are  bathed  in  their  purpl*  sacri 
ficial  blood.  What  other  use  could  I  possibly  have  foi 
them  ?" 

He  threw  his  head  back  and  added  something  in  a  lower 
tone,  at  which  Estelle  laughed,  and  put  up  her  red,  full  lip 

Mrs.  Murray  frowned,  and  said  sternly : 

"  If  you  intend  to  see  those  persons,  I  advise  you  to  do  so 
promptly." 

Her  niece  moved  toward  the  door,  but  glanced  over  her 
shoulder. 

"  I  presume  Gertrude  expects  to  see  Edna,  as  she  asked 
for  her." 

The  orphan  had  been  watching  Mr.  Murray's  face,  but 
could  detect  no  alteration  in  its  expression,  save  a  brief 
gleam  as  of  triumph  when  the  visitors  were  announced. 
Rising,  she  approached  Mrs.  Murray,  whose  clouded  brow 
betokened  more  than  ordinary  displeasure,  and  whispered : 

"  Gertrude  is  exceedingly  anxious  to  see  the  house  and 
grounds  ;  have  I  your  permission  to  show  her  over  the 
place  ?     She  is  particularly  curious  to  see  the  deer." 

"  Of  course,  if  she  requests  it ;  but  their  effrontery  in 
coming  here  caps  the  climax  of  all  the  impudence  I  ever 
heard  of.     Have  as  little  to  say  as  possible." 

Edna  went  to  the  parlor,  leaving  mother  and  son  to- 
gether. 

Mrs.  Powell  had  laid  aside  her  mourning  garments  and 
"wore  a  dress  of  blue  muslin,  which  heightened  her  beauty, 
and  as  the  orphan  looked  from  her  to  Gertrude  she  found  it 
difficult  to  decide  who  was  the  loveliest.  After  a  few  de- 
sultory remarks  she  rose,  saying : 

"As  you  have  repeatedly  expressed  a  desire  to  examine 
the  park  and  hothouses,  I  will  show  you  the  way  this 
afternoon." 

"  Take  care,  my  love,  that  you  do  not  fatigue  yourself," 
were  Mrs.  Powell's  low,  tenderly  spoken  words  as  hei 
daughter  rose  to  leave  the  room. 


ST.  ELMO.  271 

Edna  went  first  to  the  greenhouse,  and  though  her  com- 
panion chattered  ceaselessly,  she  took  little  interest  in  her 
exclamations  of  delight,  and  was  conjecturing  the  probable 
cause  of  Mrs.  Murray's  great  indignation. 

For  some  weeks  she  had  been  thrown  frequently  into  the 
society  of  Mr.  Hammond's  guests,  and  while  her  distrust 
of  Mrs.  Powell,  her  aversion  to  her  melting,  musical  voice, 
increased  at  every  interview,  a  genuine  affection  for  Ger 
trade  had  taken  root  in  her  heart. 

They  were  the  same  age ;  but  one  was  an  earnest  woman, 
the  other  a  fragile,  careless,  gleeful,  enthusiastic  child. 
Although  the  orphan  found  it  impossible  to  make  a  com- 
panion of  this  beautiful,  warm-hearted  girl,  who  hated 
books  and  turned  pale  at  the  mention  of  study,  still  Edna 
liked  to  watch  the  lovely,  radiant  face,  with  its  cheeks  tinted 
like  sea-shells,  its  soft,  childish  blue  eyes  sparkling  with 
joyousness  ;  and  she  began  to  caress  and  to  love  her,  as  she 
would  .have  petted  a  canary  or  one  of  the  spotted  fawns 
gambolling  over  the  lawn. 

As  they  stood  hand  in  hand,  admiring  some  gold-fish  in  a 
small  aquarium  in  the  centre  of  the  greenhouse,  Gertrude 
exclaimed  : 

"  The  place  is  as  fascinating  as  its  master  !  Do  tell  me 
something  about  him  ;  I  wonder  very  often  why  you  never 
mention  him.  I  know  I  ought  not  to  say  it ;  but  really, 
after  he  has  talked  to  me  for  a  few  minutes,  I  forget  every 
thing  else,  and  think  only  of  what  he  says  for  days  and 
days  after." 

"  You  certainly  do  not  allude  to  Mr.  Murray  ?"  said 
Edna. 

"  I  certainly  do.     What  makes  you  look  so  astonished  ?" 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  you  knew  him." 

"  Oh  !  I  have  known  him  since  the  week  after  our  ai  rival 
here.  Mamma  and  I  met  him  at  Mrs.  Inge's.  Mr.  Inge 
had  some  gentlemeu  to  dinner,  and  they  came  into  the 
parlor  while  we  were  calling.     Mr.  Murray  sat  down  and 


272  8T-  ELMO.  • 

talked  to  me  then  for  some  time,  and  I  have  frequently  met 
him  since;  for  it  seems  he  loves  to  sfroll  about  the  woods 
almost  as  well  as  I  do,  and  sometimes  we  walk  together. 
You  know  he  and  my  uncle  are  not  friendly,  and  I  believe 
mamma  does  not  like  him,  so  he  never  comes  to  the  par- 
sonage ;  and  never  seems  to  see  me  if  I  am  with  her  or 
Uncle  Allan.  But  is  he  not  very  fascinating  ?  If  he  were 
not  a  little  too  old  for  me,  I  believe  I  should  really  be  very 
much  in  love  with  him." 

An  expression  of  disgust  passed  swiftly  over  Edna's  pale 
face  ;  she  dropped  her  companion's  hand,  and  asked  coldly  : 

"  Does  your  mother  approve  of  your  walks  with  Mr. 
Murray  ?" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  look  so  solemn  !  I — she — 
really  I  don't  know  !  I  never  told  her  a  word  about  it. 
Once  I  mentioned  having  met  him,  and  showed  her  some 
flowers  he  gave  me  ;  and  she  took  very  little  notice  of  the 
matter.  Several  times  since  he  has  sent  me  bouquets,  and 
though  I  kept  them  out  of  uncle's  sight,  she  saw  them  in 
my  room,  and  must  have  suspected  where  they  came  from. 
Of  course  he  can  not  come  to  the  parsonage  to  see  me  when 
he  does  not  speak  to  my  uncle  or  to  mainma ;  but  I  do  not 
see  any  harm  in  his  walking  and  talking  with  me,  when  I 
happen  to  meet  him.  Oh !  how  lovely  those  lilies  are,  lean- 
ing over  the  edge  of  the  aquarium !  Mr.  Murray  said  that 
some  day  he  would  show  me  all  the  beautiful  things  at  Le 
Bocage ;  but  he  has  forgotten  his  promise,  I  am  afraid 
and  I " 

"  All !  Miss  Gertrude,  how  could  you  doubt  me  ?  I  am 
here  to  fulfill  my  promise." 

He  pushed  aside  the  boughs  of  a  guava  which  stood  be- 
tween them,  and,  coming  forward,  took  Gertrude's  hand, 
drew  it  under  his  arm,  and  looked  down  eagerly,  admir- 
ingly, into  her  blushing  face. 

"  O  Mr.  Murray !  I  had  no  idea  you  were  anywhere 
near  me.     I  am  sure  I  could " 


ST.  ELMO.  278 

"  Did  you  imagine  you  could  escape  tay  eyes,  which  are 
always  seeking  you  ?  Permit  me  to  be  your  cicerone  oven 
Le  Bocage,  instead  of  Miss  Edna  here,  who  looks  as  if  she 
had  been  scolding  you.  Perhaps  she  will  be  so  good  as  to 
wait  for  as,  and  I  will  bring  you  back  in  a  half-hour  at 
least." 

"  Edna,  will  you  wait  here  for  me  ?"  asked  Gertrude. 

"  Why  can  not  Mr.  Murray  bring  you  to  the  house  ? 
There  is  nothing  more  to  see  here." 

"Allow  us  to  judge  for  ourselves,  if  you  please.  There 
is  a  late  Paris  paper  which  will  amuse  you  till  we  return." 

St.  Elmo  threw  a  newspaper  at  her  feet,  and  led  Ger- 
trude away  through  one  of  the  glass  doors  into  the  park. 

Edna  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  aquarium,  and  the 
hungry  little  fish  crowded  close  to  her,  looking  up  wistfully 
for  the  crumbs  she  was  wont  to  scatter  there  daily ;  but 
now  their  mute  appeal  was  unheeded. 

Her  colorless  face  and  clasped  hands  grew  cold  as  the 
marble  basin  on  which  they  rested,  and  the  great,  hopeless 
agony  that  seized  her  heart  came  to  her  large  eyes  and 
looked  out  drearily. 

It  was  in  vain  that  she  said  to  herself : 

"  St.  Elmo  Murray  is  nothing  to  me  ;  why  should  I  care 
if  he  loves  Gertrude  ?  She  is  so  beautiful  and  confiding 
and  winning ;  of  course  if  he  knows  her  well  he  must  love 
her.  It  is  no  business  of  mine.  We  are  not  even  friends  ; 
we  are  worse  than  strangers ;  and  it  can  not  concern  me 
whom  he  loves  or  whom  he  hates." 

Her  own  heart  laughed  her  words  to  scorn,  and  answered 
defiantly  :  "  He  is  my  king  !  my  king  !  I  have  crowned 
and  sceptred  him,  and  right  royally  he  rules  !" 

In  pitiable  humiliation  she  acknowledged  that  she  had 
found  it  impossible  to  tear  her  thoughts  from  him  ;  that  his 
dark  face  followed — haunted  her  sleeping  and  waking; 
While  she  shrank  from  his  presence,  and  dreaded  hist 
character  she  could  not  witness  his  fond  manner  tc  Ger» 


274  ST.  ELMO. 

trude  without  a  pang  of  the  keenest  pain  she  hal  ever  en 
dared. 

The  suddenness  of  the  discovery  shocked  her  int  d  a  thor« 
ough  understanding  of  her  own  feelings.  The  grinning 
fiend  of  jealousy  had  SAvept  aside  the  flimsy  veil  which  she 
had  never  before  fully  lifted  ;  and  looking  sorrowfully  down 
into  the  bared  holy  of  holies,  she  saw  standing  between 
the  hovering  wings  of  golden  cherubim  an  idol  of  clay  de- 
manding homage,  daring  the  wrath  of  conscience  the 
high  priest.  She  saw  all  now,  and  saw  too,  at  the  same 
instant,  whither  her  line  of  duty  led. 

The  atmosphere  was  sultry,  but  she  shivered ;  and  if  a 
mirror  could  have  been  held  before  her  eyes  she  would  have 
started  back  from  the  gray,  stony  face  so  unlike  hers. 

It  seemed  so  strange  that  the  heart  of  the  accomplished 
misanthrope — the  man  of  letters  and  science,  who  had  ran- 
sacked the  world  for  information  and  amusement — should 
surrender  itself  to  the  prattle  of  a  pretty  young  thing  who 
could  sympathize  in  no  degree  with  his  pursuits,  and  was 
as  utterly  incapable  of  understanding  his  nature,  as  hi? 
Tartar  horse  or  his  pet  bloodhound. 

She  had  often  heard  Mrs.  Murray  say,  "If  there  is  one 
thing  more  uncertain  even  than  the  verdict  of  a  jury — if 
there  is  one  thing  which  is  known  neither  in  heaven,  earth, 
nor  hell,  and  which  angels  and  demons  alike  waste  time  in 
guessing  at — it  is  what  style  of  woman  any  man  will  fancj 
and  select  for  his  wife.  It  is  utterly  impossible  to  predict 
Avhat  matrimonial  caprice  may  or  may  not  seize  even  the 
wisest,  most  experienced,  most  practical,  and  reasonable  of 
men;  and  I  would  sooner  undertake  to  conjecture  how  high 
the  thermometer  stands  at  this  instant  on  the  crest  of 
Mount  Copernicus  up  yonder  in  the  moon,  than  attempt  to 
guess  what  freak  will  decide  a  man's  choice  of  a  bride." 

Sternly  Edna  faced  the  future  and  pictured  Gertrude  as 
Mr.  Murray's  wife ;  for  if  he  loved  her,  (and  did  not  his 
eyes  declare  it  ?)  of  course  he  would  sweep  every  objection, 


ST.  ELMO.  275 

every  obstacle  to  the  winds,  and  marry  her  spee  lily.  She 
tried  to  think  of  him — the  cold,  harsh  scoffer — as  the  fond 
husband  of  that  laughing  child  ;  and  though  the  vision  was 
indescribably  painful,  she  forced  herself  to  dwell  upon  it. 

The  idea  that  he  would  ever  love  any  one  or  any  thing 
had  never  until  this  hour  occurred  to  her ;  and  while  she 
could  neither  tolerate  his  opinions  nor  respect  his  character, 
she  found  herself  smitten  with  a  great,  voiceless  anguish  at 
the  thought  of  his  giving  his  sinful,  bitter  kea'rt  to  any 
Woman. 

"  Why  did  she  love  him  ?    Curious  fool,  be  still  1 
Is  human  love  the  growth  cf  human  will  ?" 

Pressing  her  hand  to  her  eyes,  she  murmured : 

"  Gertrude  is  right ;  he  is  fascinating,  but  it  is  the  fas- 
cination of  a  tempting  demon !  Ah !  if  I  had  never  come 
here  !  if  I  had  never  been  cursed  with  the  sight  of  his  face  ! 
But  I  am  no  weak,  silly  child  like  Gertrude  Powell ;  I  know 
what  my  duty  is,  and  I  am  strong  enough  to  conquer,  and 
if  necessary  to  crush  my  foolish  heart.  Oh  !  I  know  you, 
Mr.  Murray,  and  I  can  defy  you.  To-day,  short-sighted  as 
I  have  been,  I  look  down  on  you.  You  are  beneath  me, 
and  the  time  will  come  when  I  shall  look  back  to  this  hour 
and  wonder  if  I  were  temporarily  bewitched  or  insane. 
Wake  up  !  wake  up  !  come  to  your  senses,  Edna  Earl ! 
Put  an  end  to  this  sinful  folly ;  blush  for  your  unwomanly 
weakness  !" 

As  Gertrude's  merry  laugh  floated  up  through  the  trees 
the  orphan  lifted  her  head,  and  the  blood  came  back  to  her 
cheeks  while  she  watched  the  two  figures  sauntering  across 
the  smooth  lawn.  Gertrude  leaned  on  Mr.  Murray's  arm, 
and  as  he  talked  to  her  his  head  was  bent  down,  so  that  he 
could  see  the  flushed  face  shaded  by  her  straw-hat. 

She  drew  her  hand  from  his  arm  when  they  reached 
the  greenhouse,  and  looking  much  embarrassed,  said  hur- 
riedly : 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  kept  you  ivaiting  an  unconscionable 


276  ST.  ELMO. 

time;  but  Mr.  Murray  had  so  many  beautiful  things  to 
show  me,  that  I  quite  forgot  we  had  left  you  here  alone." 

"I  dare  say  your  mother,  thinks  I  have  run  away  with 
you ;  and  as  I  have  an  engagement,  I  must  either  bid  you 
good-bye  and  leave  you  here  with  Mr.  Murray,  or  go  back 
at  once  with  you  to  the  house." 

The  orphan's  voice  was  firm  and  quiet ;  and  as  she 
handed  the  French  paper  to  St.  Elmo,  she  turned  her  eyes 
full  on  his  face. 

"  Have  you  read  it  already  ?"  he  asked,  giving  her  one 
of  his  steely,  probing  glances. 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not  open  it,  as  I  take  little  interest  in 
continental  politics.     Gertrude,  will  you  go  or  stay  ?" 

Mr.  Murray  put  out  his  hand,  took  Gertrude's,  and  said  : 

"  Good-bye  till  to-morrow.    Do  not  forget  your  promise." 

Turning  away,  he  went  in  the  direction  of  the  stables. 

In  silence  Edna  walked  on  to  the  house,  and  presently 
Gertrude's  soft  fingers  grasped  hers. 

"  Edna,  I  hope  you  are  not  mad  with  me.  Do  you  really 
think  it  is  wrong  for  me  to  talk  to  Mr.  Murray,  and  to  like 
him  so  much  ?" 

"  Gertrude,  you  must  judge  for  yourself  concerning  the 
propriety  of  your  conduct.  I  shall  not  presume  to  advise 
you  ;  but  the  fact  that  you  are  unwilling  to  acquaint  your 
mother  with  your  course  ought  to  make  you  look  closely 
at  your  own  heart.  When  a  girl  is  afraid  to  trust  her 
mother,  I  should  think  there  were  grounds  for  uneasiness." 

They  had  reached  the  steps,  and  Mrs.  Powell  came  out 
to  meet  them. 

"  Where  have  you  two  runaways  been  ?  I  have  waited 
a  half  hour  for  you.  Estelle,  do  come  and  see  me.  It  is 
very  dreary  at  the  parsonage,  and  your  visits  are  cheering 
and  precious.     Come,  Gertrude." 

When  Gertrude  kissed  her  friend,  she  whispered  : 

"  Don't  be  mad  with  me,  dearie.  I  will  remember  what 
you  said,  and  talk  to  mamma  this  very  evening." 


ST.  ELMO.  277 

Edna  saw  mother  and  daughter  descend  the  long  a  renue 
and  then  running  up  to  her  room,  she  tied  on  her  hat  and 
walked  rapidly  across  the  park  in  an  opposite  direction. 

About  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Le  Bocage,  on  a  winding 
and  unfrequented  road  leading  to  a  saw-mill,  stood  a  smal1 
log-house  containing  only  two  rooms.  The  yard  was  ne- 
glected, full  of  rank  weeds,  and  the  gate  was  falling  from 
its  rusty  hinges. 

Edna  walked  up  the  decaying  steps,  and  without  pausing 
to  knock,  entered  one  of  the  comfortless-looking  rooms. 

On  a  cot  in  one  corner  lay  an  elderly  man  in  the  last 
stage  of  consumption,  and  by  his  side,  busily  engaged  in 
knitting,  sat  a  child  about  ten  years  old,  whose  pretty  white 
face  wore  that  touching  look  of  patient  placidity  peculiar 
to  the  blind.  Huldah  Reed  had  never  seen  the  light,  but  a 
marvellous  change  came  over  her  countenance  when  Edna's 
light  step  and  clear,  sweet  voice  fell  on  her  ear. 

"  Huldah,  how  is  your  father  to-day  ?" 

"  ISTot  as  well  as  he  was  yesterday  ;  but  he  is  asleep  now, 
and  will  be  better  when  he  wakes." 

"  Has  the  doctor  been  here  to-day  ?" 

"  No,  he  has  not  been  here  since  Sunday." 

Edna  stood  for  a  while  watching  the  labored  breathing 
of  the  sleeper,  and  putting  her  hand  on  Huldab's  head,  she 
whispered : 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  read  to  you  this  evening  ?  It  is 
late,  but  I  shall  have  time  for  a  short  chapter." 

"  Oh !  please  do,  if  it  is  only  a  few  lines.  It  will  not 
wake  him." 

The  child  rose,  spread  out  her  hands,  and  groped  her 
way  across  the  room  to  a  small  table,  whence  she  took  an 
old  Bible. 

The  two  sat  down  together  by  the  western  window,  and 
Edna  asked : 

"Is  there  auy  particular  chapter  you  would  like  tc 
hear?" 


278  ST-  ELMO. 

''  Please*  read  about  blind  Bartimeis  sitting  by  the  xoaA 
side,  waiting  for  Jesus." 

Edna  turned  to  the  verses  and  read  in  a  subdaed  time 
for  some  moments.  In  her  eager  interest  Huldah  slid  do  we 
on  her  knees,  rested  her  thin  hands  on  her  companion's  lap 
and  raised  her  sweet  face,  with  its  wide,  vacant,  sad,  hazel 
eyes. 

When  Edna  read  the  twenty-fourth  verse  of  the  next 
chapter,  the  small  hands  were  laid  upon  the  page  to  arrest 
her  attention. 

"  Edna,  do  you  believe  that  ?  '  What  things  soever  you 
desire,  when  ye  pray  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and 
ye  shall  have  them  /'  Jesus  said  that :  and  if  I  pray  that 
my  eyes  may  be  opened,  do  you  believe  I  shall  see  ?  They 
tell  me  that — that  pa  will  not  live.  Oh !  do  you  think  if  I 
pray  day  and  night,  and  if  I  believe,  and  oh !  I  do  believe ! 
I  will  believe !  do  you  think  Jesus  will  let  me  see  him — my 
father — before  he  dies?  If  I  could  only  see  his  dear  face 
once,  I  would  be  willing  to  be  blind  afterward.  All  my 
life  I  have  felt  his  face,  and  I  knew  it  by  my  fingers ;  but 
oh !  I  can't  feel  it  in  the  grave !  I  have  been  praying  so 
hard  ever  since  the  doctor  said  he  must  die ;  praying  that 
Jesus  would  have  mercy  on  me,  and  let  me  see  him  just 
once.  Last  night  I  dreamed  Christ  came  and  put  his  hands 
on  my  eyes,  and  said  to  me  too,  '  Thy  faith  hath  made  thee 
whole ;'  and  I  waked  up  crying,  and  my  own  fingers  were 
pulling  my  eyes  open ;  but  it  was  all  dark,  dark.  Edna, 
won't  you  help  me  pray?  And  do  you  believe  I  shall  see 
him?" 

Edna  took  the  quivering  face  in  her  soft  palms,  and  ten- 
derly kissed  the  lips  several  times. 

"  My  dear  Huldah,  you  know  the  days  of  miracles  are 
over,  and  Jesus  is  not  walking  in  the  world  now,  to  cure 
the  suffering  and  the  blind  and  the  dumb." 

"  But  he  is  sitting  close  to  the  Throne  of  God,  and  he  could 
Bend  some  angel  down  to  touch  mj  eyes,  and  let  me  see 


ST.  .ELMO.  £79 

my  dear,  dear  pa  once — all !  just  once.  Oh !  lie  is  tte  same 
Jesas  now  as  when  lie  felt  sorry  for  Bartimeus.  And  why 
won't  he  pity  me  too  ?  I  pray  and  I  believe,  and  that  is 
what  he  said  I  must  do." 

"  I  think  that  the  promise  relates  to  sp- ritual  things,  and 
means  that  when  we  pray  for  strength  to  resist  temptation 
and  sin,  Jesus  sends  the  Holy  Spirit  to  assist  all  who  ear- 
nestly strive  to  do  their  duty.  But,  dear  Huldah,  one  thing 
is  very  certain,  even  if  you  are  blind  in  this  world,  there 
will  come  a  day  when  God  will  open  your  eyes,  and  you 
shall  see  those  you  love  face  to  face ;  '  for  there  shall  be  no 
night  there '  in  that  city  of  rest — no  need  of  sun  or  moon 
for  'the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof.'  " 

"  Huldah— daughter !" 

The  child  glided  swiftly  to  the  cot,  and,  looking  round, 
Edna  doubted  the  evidence  of  her  senses ;  for  by  the  side 
of  the  sufferer  stood  a  figure  so  like  Mr.  Murray  that  her 
heart  began  to  throb  painfully. 

The  corner  of  the  room  was  dim  and  shadowy,  but  a 
strong,  deep  voice  soon  dispelled  all  doubt. 

"I  hope  you  are  better  to-day,  Reed.  Here  are  some 
grapes  which  will  refresh  you,  and  you  can  eat  them  as 
freely  as  your  appetite  prompts." 

Mr.  Murray  placed  a  luscious  cluster  in  the  emaciated 
hands,  and  put  the  basket  down  on  the  floor  near  the  cot. 
As  he  drew  a  chair  from  the  wall  and  seated  himself,  Edna 
crossed  the  room  stealthily,  and,  laying  her  hand  on  Hul- 
dah's  shoulder,  led  her  out  to  the  front-steps. 

"  Huldah,  has  Mr.  Murray  ever  been  here  before  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes — often  and  often ;  but  he  generally  comes  later 
than  this.  He  brings  all  the  wine  poor  pa  drinks,  and  very 
often  peaches  and  grapes.  Oh  !  he  is  so  good  to  us.  I  love 
to  hear  him  come  up  the  steps ;  and  many  a  time,  when  pa 
is  asleep,  I  sit  here  at  night,  listening  for  the  gallop  of  Mr. 
Murray's  hoi*se.  Somehow  I  feel  so  safe,  as  if  nothing  could 
go  wrong,  when  he  is  in  the  house." 


280  ST-  ELMO. 

"  Why  did  you  nev  Br  tell  me  this  before  ?"  Why  have 
you  not  spoken  of  him  ?" 

"  Because  he  charged  me  not  to  speak  to  any  one  about 
it — said  he  did  not  choose  to  have  it  known  that  he  ever 
came  here.  There  !  pa  is  calling  me.  Won't  you  come  in 
and  speak  to  him  ? 

"  Not  this  evening.    Good-bye.    I  will  come  again  soon." 

Edna  stooped,  kissed  the  child  hastily,  and  walked  away, 

She  had  only  reached  the  gate  where  Tamerlane  was  fas 
tened  when  Mr.  Murray  came  out  of  the  house. 

"  Edna !" 

Reluctantly  she  stopped,  and  waited  for  him. 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  to  walk  home  alone  ?" 

"  ~No,  sir ;  I  am  out  frequently  even  later  than  this-" 

"  It  is.  not  exactly  prudent  for  you  to  go  home  now  alone : 
for  it  will  be  quite  dark  before  you  can  possibly  reach  the 
park  gate." 

He  passed  his  horse's  reins  over  his  arm,  and  led  him 
along  the  road. 

"  I  am  not  going  that  way,  sir.  There  is  a  path  through 
the  woods  that  is  much  shorter  than  the  road  and  I  can  get 
through  an  opening  in  the  orchard  fence.  Good  even- 
ing !" 

She  turned  abruptly  from  the  beaten  road,  but  he  caught 
her  dress  and  detained  her. 

"  I  told  you  some  time  ago  that  I  never  permitted  espi- 
onage in  my  affairs ;  and  now,  with  reference  to  what  oc- 
curred at  the  greenhouse,  I  advise  you  to  keep  silent.  Do 
you  understand  me  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  sir,  I  could  not  condescend  to  play  spy 
on  the  actions  of  any  one  ;  and  in  the  second,  you  may  rest 
assured  I  shall  not  trouble  myself  to  comment  upon  your 
affairs,  in  which  I  certainly  have  no  interest.  ^Your  esti- 
mate of  me  must  be  contemptible  indeed,  if  you  imagine 
that  I  can  only  employ  myself  in  watching  your  career. 
Dismiss  your  apprehensions,  and  rest  in  the  assurance  that  I 


ST.  ELMO.  281 

consider  it  no  business  of  mine  where  you  go  ex  trhr.t  you 
may  choose  to  do." 

"  My  only  desire  is  to  shield  my  pretty  Gertrude's  head 
from  the  wrath  that  may  be  bottled  up  for  her." 

Edna  looked  up  fixedly  into  the  deep,  glittering  eyes  thai 
watched  hers,  and  answered  quietly  : 

"  Mr.  Murray,  if  you  love  her  half  as  well  as  I  do,  you 
will  be  more  careful  in  future  not  to  subject  her  to  the 
opening  of  the  vials  of  wrath." 

He  laughed  contemptuously,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  You  are  doubtless  experienced  in  such  matters,  and 
fully  competent  to  advise  me." 

"  No,  sir,  it  does  not  concern  me,  and  I  presume  neither 
to  criticise  nor  to  advise.  Please  be  so  good  as  to  detain 
me  no  longer,  and  believe  me  when  I  repeat  that  I  have  no 
intention  whatever  of  meddling  with  any  of  your  affairs, 
or  reporting  your  actions." 

Putting  his  hands  suddenly  on  her  shoulders,  he  stooped, 
looked  keenly  at  her,  and  she  heard  him  mutter  an  oath. 
When  he  spoke  again  it  was  through  set  teeth : 

"  You  will  be  wise  if  you  adhere  to  that  decision.  Tell 
them  at  home  not  to  wait  supper  for  me." 

He  sprang  into  his  saddle  and  rode  toward  the  village ; 
and  Edna  hurried  homeward,  asking  herself: 

"  What  first  took  Mr.  Murray  to  the  blacksmith's  hovel  ? 
Why  is  he  so  anxious  that  his  visits  should  remain  undis- 
covered? After  all,  is  there  some  latent  nobility  in  his 
character  ?  Is  he  so  much  better  or  worse  than  I  have 
thought  him  ?  Perhaps  his  love  for  Gertrude  has  softened 
his  heart,  perhaps  that  love  may  be  his  salvation.  God 
grant  it !     God  grant  it !". 

The  evening  breeze  rose  and  sang  solemnly  through  the 
pine  trees-,  but  to  her  it  seemed  only  to  chant  the  melan- 
choly refrain,  "  My  pretty  Gertrude,  my  pretty  Gertrude." 

The  chill  light  of  stars  fell  on  the  orphan's  pathway,  and 
over  her  pale  features,  where  dw^lt  the  reflection  of  a  lone 


282  ST.  ELMO. 

liness — a  silent  desolation,  such  as  she  had  never  realized, 
even  when  her  grandfather  was  snatched  from  her  clinging 
arms.  She  passed  through  the  orchard,  startling  a  covey  of 
partridges  that  nestled  in  the  long  grass,  and  a  rabbit  that. 
had  stolen  out  under  cover  of  dusk ;  and  when  she  came  to 
the  fountain,  she  paused  and  looked  out  over  the  dark,  quiet 
grounds. 

Hitherto  duty  had  worn  a  smiling,  loving  countenance, 
and  walked  gently  by  her  side  as  she  crossed  the  flowery 
vales  of  girlhood ;  now,  the  guide  was  transformed  into  an 
angel  of  wrath,  pointing  with  drawn  sword  to  the  gate  of 
Eden. 

As  the  girl's  slight  fingers  locked  themselves  tightly,  her 
beautiful  lips  uttered  mournfully : 

"  What  hast  tliou  done,  O  soul  of  mine 

That  thou  trernblest  so  ? 
Hast  thou  wrought  His  task,  and  kept  the  line 

He  bade  thee  go  ? 
Ah  !  the  cloud  is  dark,  and  day  by  day 

I  am  moving  thither  : 
I  must  pass  beneath  it  on  my  way — 

God  pity  me  !     Whither  ?" 

When  Mrs.  Murray  went  to  her  own  room  later  than 
usual  that  night,  she  found  Edna  sitting  by  the  table,  with 
her  Bible  lying  open  on  her  lap,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
floor. 

"  I  thought  you  were  fast  asleep  before  this.  I  sat  up 
waiting  for  St.  Elmo,  as  I  wished  to  speak  to  him  about 
some  engagements  for  to-morrow." 

The  lady  of  the  house  threw  herself  wearily  upon  the 
lounge,  and  sighed  as  she  unclasped  her  bracelets  and  took 
off  the  diamond  cross  that  fastened  her  collai\ 

"  Edna,  ring  for  ITagar." 

,"  Will  you  not  let  me  take  her  place  to-night  ?  I  warn 
to  talk  to  you  before  I  go  to  sleep." 


ST.  ELMC.  283 

"  Well,  then,  unlace  my  gaiters  and  take  down  m  y  hair, 
Child,  what  makes  you  look  so  very  serious  ?" 

"  Because  what  I  am  about  to  say  saddens  me  very 
much.  My  dear  Mrs.  Murray,  I  have  been  in  this  house 
five  peaceful,  happy,  blessed  years  ;  I  have  become  warmly 
attached  to  every  thing  about  the  home  where  I  have  been 
so  kindly  sheltered  during  my  girlhood,  and  the  thought  of 
leaving  it  is  exceedingly  painful  to  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Edna  ?  Have  you  come  to  your 
senses  at  last,  and  consented  to  make  Gordon  happy  ?" 

"  No,  no.  I  am  going  to  New-York  to  try  to  make  my 
bread." 

"  You  are  going  to  a  lunatic  asylum  !  Stuff!  nonsense  ! 
W  hat  can  you  do  in  New-York  ?  It  is  already  overstocked 
with  poor  men  and  women,  who  are  on  the  verge  of  starva- 
tion. Pooh !  pooh  !  you  look  like  making  your  bread. 
Don't  be  silly." 

"  I  know  that  I  am  competent  now  to  take  a  situation  as 
teacher  in  a  school,  or  family,  and  I  am  determined  to 
make  the  experiment  immediately.  I  want  to  go  to  New- 
York  because  I  can  command  advantages  there  which  nc 
poor  girl  can  obtain  in  any  Southern  city ;  and  the  maga- 
zine for  which  I  expect  to  write  is  published  there.  Mr, 
Manning  says  he  will  pay  me  liberally  for  such  articles  as 
he  accepts,  and  if  I  can  only  get  a  situation  which  I  hear  is 
now  vacant,  I  can  easily  support  myself.  Mrs.  Powell 
received  a  letter  yesterday  from  a  wealthy  friend  in  New- 
York  who  desires  to  secure  a  governess  for  her  young  child- 
ren, one  of  whom  is  deformed.  She  said  she  was  exces- 
sively particular  as  to  the  character  of  the  woman  to  whose 
care  she  committed  her  crippled  boy,  and  that  she  had  ad- 
vertised for  one  who  could  teach  him  Greek.  I  shall  ask 
Mrs.  Powell  and  Mr.  Hammond  to  telegraph  to  her  to-moi- 
row  and  request  her  not  to  engage  any  one  till  a  letter  can 
reach  her  from  Mr.  Hammond  and  myself.  I  believe  he 
knows   the  lady,  who   is  very  distantly  related   to  Mrs, 


284  ST.  ELMO. 

Powell.  Still,  before  I  took  this  step,  I  felt  thai  I  owed  it 
to  you  to  acquaint  you  with  my  intention. " 

"  It  is  a  step  which  I  can  not  sanction.  I  detest  that  Mrs, 
Powell — I  utterly  loathe  the  sound  of  her  name,  and  I 
should  be  altogether  unwilling  to  see  you  domesticated 
with  any  of  her  '  friends.'  I  am  surprised  that  Mr.  Ham- 
mond could  encourage  any  such  foolish  scheme  on  your 
part." 

"  As  yet  he  is  entirely  ignorant  of  my  plan,  for  I  have 
mentioned  it  to  no  one  except  yourself;  but  I  do  not  think 
he  will  oppose  it.  Dear  Mrs.  Murray,  much  as  I  love  you, 
I  can  not  remain  here  any  longer,  for  I  could  not  continue 
to  owe  my  bread  even  to  your  kind  and  tender  charity. 
You  have  educated  me,  and  only  God  knows  how  unutter- 
ably grateful  I  am  for  all  your  goodness ;  but  now,  I  could 
no  longer  preseiwe  my  self-respect  or  be  happy  as  a  de- 
pendent on  your  bounty." 

She  had  taken  Mrs.  Murray's  hand,  and  while  tears 
gathered  in  her  eyes,  she  kissed  the  fingers  and  pressed 
them  against  her  cheek. 

"  If  you  are  too  proud  to  remain  here  as  you  have  done 
for  so  many  years,  how  do  you  suppose  you  can  endure  the 
humiliations  and  affronts  which  will  certainly  be  your  por- 
tion when  you  accept  a  hireling's  position  in  the  family  of  a 
stranger?  Don't  you  know  that  of  all  drudgery  that  re- 
quired of  governesses  is  most  fraught  with  vexation  and 
bitterness  of  spirit  ?  I  have  never  treated  you  as  an  upper 
servant,  but  loved  you  and  shielded  you  from  slights  and 
insults  as  if  you  were  my  niece  or  my  daughter.  Edna, 
you  could  not  endure  the  lot  you  have  selected ;  your  proud, 
sensitive  nature  would  be  galled  to  desperation.  Stay  here 
and  help  me  keep  house ;  write  and  study  as  much  as  you 
like,  and  do  as  you  please ;   only  don't  leave  me." 

She  drew  the  girl  to  her  bosom,  and  while  she  kissed  her, 
tears  fell  on  the  pale  face. 

"  O  Mrs.  Murray !  it  is  hard  to  leave  you !     For  indeed  I 


st.  ELxrc  285 

love  you  more  than  you  will  ever  believe  or  reaJIze ;  but  I 
must  go !  I  feel  that  it  is  my  duty,  and  you  would  not 
wish  me  to  stay  here  and  be  unhappy." 

"  Unhappy  here !  Why  so  ?  Something  is  wrong,  and 
I  must  know  just  what  it  is.  Somebody  has  been  meddling 
— taunting  you.  Edna,  I  ask  a  plain  question,  and  I  want 
the  whole  truth.  You  and  Estelle  do  not  like  each  other ; 
is  her  presence  here  the  cause  of  your  determination  to  quit 
my  house  ?" 

"No,  Mrs.  Murray;  if  she  were  not  here  I  should  still 
feel  it  my  duty  to  go  out  and  earn  my  living.  You  are  cor- 
rect in  saying  we  do  not  particularly  like  each  other ;  there 
is  little  sympathy  between  us,  but  no  bad  feeling  that  I  am 
aware  of,  and  she  is  not  the  cause  of  my  departure." 

Mrs.  Murray  was  silent  a  moment,  scrutinizing  the  face 
on  her  shoulder. 

"  Edna,  can  it  be  my  son  ?  Has  some  harsh  speech  of  St. 
Elmo's  piqued  and  wounded  you?" 

"  Oh !  no.  His  manner  toward  me  is  quite  as  polite,  nay, 
rather  more  considerate  than  when  I  first  came  here.  Be- 
side, you  know,  we  are  almost  strangers ;  sometimes  weeks 
elapse  without  our  exchanging  a  word." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  have  not  had  a  quarrel  with  him  ?  I 
know  you  dislike  him ;  I  know  how  exceedingly  provok- 
ing he  frequently  is ;  but,  child,  he  is  unfortunately  consti- 
tuted ;  he  is  bitterly  rude  to  every  body,  and  does  not  mean 
to  wound  you  particularly." 

"  I  have  no  complaint  to  make  of  Mr.  Murray's  manner 
to  me.  I  do  not  expect  or  desire  that  it  should  be  other 
than  it  is.  Why  do  you  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  reason  I 
gave  for  quitting  dear  old  Bocage  ?  I  have  never  expected 
to  live  here  longer  than  was  necessary  to  qualify  myself  for 
the  work  I  have  chosen." 

"  I  doubt  it  because  it  is  so  incomprehensible  that  a  young 
girl,  who  might  be  Gordon  Leigh's  happy  wife  and  mistress 
of  his  elegant  home,  surrounded  by  every  luxury,  and  idolized 


286  ST-  ELMO. 

by  one  of  the  noblest,  handsomest  men  I  ever  knew,  stotild 
prefer  to  go  among  strangers  and  toil  for  a  scanty  li  reli 
hood.  Now  I  know  something  of  human  nature,  and  I 
know  that  your  course  is  very  singular,  very  unnatural. 
Edna,  my  child  !  my  dear,  little  girl !  I  can't  let  you  go.  I 
want  you !  I  can't  spare  you !  I  find  I  love  you  too  well, 
my  sweet  comforter  in  all  my  troubles !  my  only  real  com- 
panion !" 

She  clasped  the  orphan  closer,  and  wept. 

"Oh!  you  don't  know  how  precious  your  love  is  to  my 
heart,  dear,  dear  Mrs.  Murray !  In  all  this  wide  world 
whom  have  I  to  love  me  but  you  and  Mr.  Hammond  ?  Even 
in  the  great  sorrow  of  leaving  you,  it  will  gladden  me  to 
feel  that  I  possess  so  fully  your  confidence  and  affection. 
But  I  must  go  away;  and  after  a  little  while  you  will  not 
miss  me ;  for  Estelle  will  be  with  you,  and  you  will  not  need 
me.  Oh  !  it  is  hard  to  leave  you  !  it  is  a  bitter  trial !  But  I 
know  what  my  duty  is ;  and  were  it  even  more  difficult,  I 
would  not  hesitate.  I  hope  you  will  not  think  me  unduly 
obstinate  when  I  tell  you,  that  I  have  fully  determined  to 
apply  for  that  situation  in  New-York." 

Mrs.  Murray  pushed  the  girl  from  her,  and,  with  a  sob, 
buried  her  face  in  her  arms. 

Edna  waited  in  vain  for  her  to  speak,  and  finally  she 
stooped,  kissed  one  of  the  hands,  and  said  brokenly  as  she 
left  the  room : 

"  Good-night — my  dearest — my  best  friend.  If  you  could 
only  look  into  my  heart  and  see  how  it  aches  at  the  thought 
t*f  separation,  you  would  not  add  the  pain  of  your  dis- 
pleasure to  that  which  I  already  suffer." 

When  the  orphan  opened  her  eyes  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, she  found  a  note  pinned  to  her  pillow : 

"  My  Dear  Edsta  :  I  could  not  sleep  last  night  in  conse- 
quence of  your  unfortunate  resolution,  and  I  write  to  beg 
you,  for  my  sake  if  not  for  your  own,  to  reconsider  the  mat 


St.  jelmo.  287 

ter.  I  will  gladly  pay  you  the  same  salary  that  3  on  expect 
to  receive  as  governess,  if  you  will  remain  as  my  companion 
and  assistant  at  Le  Bocage.  I  can  not  consent  to  give 
you  up ;  I  love  you  too  well,  my  child,  to  see  you  quit  my 
house.  I  shall  soon  be  an  old  woman,  and  then  what  would 
I  do  without  my  little  orphan  girl  ?  Stay  with  me  always, 
and  you  shall  never  know  what  want  and  toil  and  hardship 
mean.  As  soon  as  you  are  awake,  come  and  kiss  me  good- 
morning,  and  I  shall  know  that  you  are  my  own  dear,  little 
Edna.  Affectionately  yours, 

Ellen  Murray." 

Edna  knelt  and  prayed  for  strength  to  do  what  she  felt 
duty  sternly  dictated ;  but,  though  her  will  did  not  falter 
her  heart  bled,  as  she  wrote  a  few  lines  thanking  her  bene- 
factress for  the  affection  that  had  brightened  and  warmed 
her  whole  lonely  life,  and  assuring  her  that  .the  reasons 
which  induced  her  to  leave  Le  Bocage  were  imperative  and 
unanswerable. 

An  hour  later  she  entered  the  breakfast-room,  and  found 
the  members  of  the  family  already  assembled.  While  Mrs. 
Murray  was  cold  and  haughty,  taking  no  notice  of  Edna's 
salutation,  Estelle  talked  gayly  with  Mr.  Allston  concerning 
a  horseback  ride  they  intended  to  take  that  morning ;  and 
Mr.  Murray,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  seemed  engrossed  in 
the  columns  of  the  London  Times,  which  contained  a  re- 
cent speech  of  Gladstone's.  Presently  he  threw  down  the 
paper,  looked  at  his  watch  and  ordered  his  horse. 

"St.  Elmo,  where  are  you  going?  Do  allow  yourself  to 
be  prevailed  upon  to  wait  and  ride  with  us." 

Estelle's  tone  was  musical  and  coaxing,  as  she  approached 
her  cousin  and  put  one  of  her  fingers  through  the  button- 
hole of  his  coat. 

"  Not  for  all  the  kingdoms  that  Satan  pointed  out  from 
the  pinnacle  of  Mount  Quarantina  !  I  have  as  insuperable 
an  objection  to  constituting  one  of  a  trio  as  some  supersti- 


288  ST-  elmo. 

tious  people  have  to  forming  part  of  a  dinner-company  of 
thirteen.  Where  am  I  going ?  To  that 'Sea  of  Serenity,' 
which  astronomers  tell  us  is  located  in  the  left  eye  of  the 
face  known  in  common  parlance  as  the  man  in  the  moon. 
Where  am  I  going  ?  To  Western  Ross-shire,  to  pitch  my 
tent  and  smoke  my  cigar  in  peace,  on  the  brink  of  that 
blessed  Loch  Maree,  whereof  Pennant  wrote." 

He  shook'  off  Estelle's  touch,  walked  to  the  mantel-piece, 
and  taking  a  match  from  the  china  case,  drew  it  across  the 
heel  of  his  boot. 

"  Where  is  Loch  Maree  ?  I  do  not  remember  ever  to 
have  seen  the  name,"  said  Mrs.  Murray,  pushing  aside  her 
coffee-cup. 

"  Oh  !  pardon  me,  mother,  if  I  decline  to  undertake  your 
geographical  education.  Ask  that  incipient  Isotta .  Noga- 
role,  sitting  there  at  your  right  hand.  Doubtless  she  wiL 
find  it  a  pleasing  task  to  instruct  you  in  Scottish  topogra- 
phy, while  I  have  an  engagement  that  forces  me  most  re- 
luctantly and  respectfully  to  decline  the  honor  of  enlighten- 
ing you.     Confound  these  matches  !  they  are  all  wet." 

Involuntarily  Mrs.  Murray's  eyes  turned  to  Edna,  who 
had  not  even  glanced  at  St.  Elmo  since  her  entrance.  Now 
she  looked  up,  and  though  she  had  'not  read  Pennant,  she 
remembered  the  lines  written  on  the  old  Druidic  well  by  an 
American  poet.  Yielding  to  some  inexplicable  impulse, 
she  slowly  and  gently  repeated  two  verses : 

"  '  O  restless  heart  and  fevered  brain  ! 

Unquiet  and  unstable, 
That  holy  well  of  Loch  Maree 

Is  more  than  idle  fable  ! 
The  shadows  of  a  humble  will 

And  contrite  heart  are  o'er  it : 
Go  read  its  legend—"  Trust  ra  God  " — 

On  Faith's  white  stones  before  it  1' " 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


jHILE  your  decision  is  inexpressibly  painful  to 
me,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  dissuade  you  from  a 
resolution  which  I  know  has  not  been  lightly 
or  hastily   taken.      But,    ah    my  child !    what 
shall  I  do  without  you  ?" 

Mr.  Hammond's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  looked  at  his 
pupil,  and  his  hand  trembled  when  he  stroked  her  bowed 
head. 

"  I  dread  the  separation  from  you  and  Mrs.  Murray  ;  but 
I  know  I  ought  to  go ;  and  I  feel  that  when  duty  com- 
mands me  to  follow  a  path,  lonely  and  dreary  though  it 
may  seem,  a  light  will  be  shed  before  my  feet,  and  a  staff 
will  be  put  into  my  hands.  I  have  often  wondered  what 
the  Etrurians  intended  to  personify  in  their  Dii  Tnvokiti, 
before  whose  awful  decrees  all  other  gods  bowed.  Now  I 
feel  assured  that  the  chief  of  the  '  Shrouded  Gods '  is  Duty, 
vailing  her  features  with  a  silver-lined  cloud,  scorning  to 
parley,  but  whose  unbending  finger  signs  our  way — an  un- 
erring pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  of  fire  by  night.  Mr.  Ham- 
mond, I  shall  follow  that  stern  finger  till  the  clods  on  my 
coffin  shut  it  from  my  sight." 

The  August  sun  shining  through  the  lilac  and  myrtle 
boughs  that  rustled  close  to  the  study- window  glinted  over 
the  pure,  pale  face  of  the.  orphan,  and  showed  a  calm 
mournfulness  in  the  eyes  which  looked  out  at  the  quiet  par- 
sonage garden,  and  far  away  to  the  waving  lines  against 
the  sky,  where 

"  A  golden  lustre  slept  upon  the  hills." 


290  ST.  ELMO. 

Just  "beyond  the  low,  ivy-wreathed  stone  W«fl  that  marked 
the  boundary  of  the  garden  ran  a  little  stream,  overhung 
with  alders  and  willows,  under  whose  tremulous  shadows 
rested  contented  cattle  —  some  knee-deep  in  water,  some 
browsing  leisurely  on  purple-tufted  clover.  From  the 
wide,  hot  field,  stretching  away  on  the  opposite  side,  came 
the  clear  metallic  ring  of  the  scythes,  as  the  mowers  sharp- 
ened them ;  the  mellow  whistle  of  the  driver  lying  on  top 
of  the  huge  hay  mass,  beneath  which  the  oxen  crawled  to- 
ward the  lowered  bars  ;  and  the  sweet  gurgling  laughter 
of  two  romping,  sun-burned  children,  who  swung  on  at 
the  back  of  the  wagon. 

Edna  pointed  to  the  peaceful  picture,  and  said  :  "If  Rosa 
Bonheur  could  only  put  that  on  canvas  for  me,  I  would 
hang  it  upon  my  walls  in  the  great  city  whither  I  am  go- 
ing ;  and  when  my  weary  days  of  work  ended,  I  could  sit 
down  before  it,  and  fold  my  tired  hands  and  look  at  it 
through  the  mist  of  tears  till  its  blessed  calm  stole  into  my 
heart,  and  I  believed  myself  once  more  with  you,  gazing 
out  of  the  study-window.  Ah  !  blessed  among  all  gifted 
women  is  Rosa  Bonheur !  accounted  worthy  to  wear  what 
other  women  may  not  aspire  to — the  Cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor !  Yesterday,  when  I  read  the  description  of 
the  visit  of  the  Empress  to  the  studio,  I  think  I  was  almost 
as  proud  and  happy  as  that  patient  worker  at  the  easel, 
when  over  her  shoulders  was  hung  the  ribbon  which  France 
decrees  only  to  the  mighty  souls  who  increase  her  glory, 
and  before  whom  she  bows  in  reverent  gratitude.  I  am 
glad  that  a  woman's  hand  laid  that  badge  of  immortality 
on  womanly  shoulders  —  a  crowned  head  crowning  the 
Queen  of  Artists.  I  wonder  if,  when  obscure  and  in  dis- 
guise, she  haunted  the  abattoir  die  Houle,  and  worked  on 
amid  the  lowing  and  bleating  of  the  victims- — I  wonder  if 
faith  prophesied  of  that  distant  day  of  glorious  recompense, 
when  the  ribbon  of  the  Legion  fluttered  from  Eugenie's 
white  fingers  and  she  was  exalted  above  all  thrones  ?     For 


ST.   ELMO.  291 

who  would  barter  Rosa's  ribbon  for  Eugenie's  c  ow ^-jew- 
els ?  Some  day,  please  Gocl,  I  hope  to  be  considered  wor- 
thy to  stand  in  that  studio,  in  the  Hue  cFAssas,  and  touch 
Rosa  Bonheur's  pure  hand,  and  tell  her  how  often  a  poor 
girl  in  America  —  a  blacksmith's  grandchild  —  has  clapped 
her  hands  and  thanked  God  for  the  glory  which  she  ha& 
shed  —  not  on  France  alone,  but  upon  all  womanhood. 
Bonheur  !  blessing  indeed  !  Ah  Mr.  Hammond  !  we  all 
wear  our  crosses,  but  they  do  not  belong  to  the  order  of 
the  Legion  of  Honor." 

The  minister  inclosed  in  his  own  the  hand  which  she  had 
laid  on  his  knee,  and  said  gently  but  gravely  : 

"  My  child,  your  ambition  is  your  besetting  sin.  It  is 
Satan  pointing  to  the  tree  of  knowledge,  tempting  you  to 
eat  and  become  'as  gods.'  Search  your  heart,  and.  I  fear 
you  will  find  that  while  you  believe  you  are  dedicating  your 
talent  entirely  to  the  service  of  God,  there  is  a  spring  of 
selfishness  underlying  all.  You  are  too  proud,  too  am- 
bitious of  distinction,  too  eager  to  climb  to  some  lofty 
niche  in  the  temple  of  fame,  where  your  name,  now  un- 
known, shall  shine  in  the  annals  of  literature  and  serve  as 
a  beacon  to  encourage  others  equally  as  anxious  for  cele- 
brity. I  Avas  not  surprised  to  see  you  in  print ;  for  long, 
long  ago,  before  you  realized  the  extent  of  your  mental 
dowry,  1  saw  the  kindling  of  that  ambitious  spark  whose 
flame  generally  consumes  the  women  in  whose  hearts  it 
burns.  The  history  of  literary  females  is  not  calculated  to 
allay  the  apprehension  that  oppresses  me,  as  I  watch  you 
just  setting  out  on  a  career  so  fraught  with  trials  of  which 
you  have  never  dreamed.  As  a  class,  they  are  martyrs, 
uncrowned  and  uncanonized  ;  jeered  at  by  the  masses,  sin- 
cerely pitied  by  a  few  earnest  souls,  and  wept  over  by  the 
relatives  who  really  love  them.  Thousands  of  women  have 
toiled  over  books  that  proved  millstones  and  drowned  them 
in  the  sea  of  letters.  How  many  of  the  hundreds  of  female 
writers  scattered  through  the  world  in  this  century,  will  be 


292  ST.  ELMO. 

remembered  six  months  after  the  coffin  closes  over  Jieii 
weary,  haggard  faces  ?  Ton  may  answer,  '  They  made 
their  bread.'  Ah  child !  it  .would  have  been  sweeter  if 
earned  at  the  wash-tub,  or  in  the  dairy,  or  by  their  needles. 
It  is  the  rough  handling,  the  jars,  the  tension  of  her  heart- 
strings that  sap  the  foundations  of  a  woman's  life,  and  con- 
sign her  to  an  early  grave  ;  and  a  Cherokee  rose-hedge  is 
not  more  thickly  set  with  thorns  than  a  literary  career  with 
grievous,  vexatious,  tormenting  disappointments.  If  you 
succeed  after  years  of  labor  and  anxiety  and  harassing  fears, 
you  will  become  a  target  for  envy  and  malice,  and,  possi- 
bly, for  slander.  Your  own' sex  will  be  jealous  of  your  em- 
inence, considering  your  superiority  as  an  insult  to  their 
mediocrity  ;  and  mine  will  either  ridicule  or  barely  tolerate 
you  ;  for  men  detest  female  competitors  in  the  Olympian 
game  of  literature.  If  you  fail,  you  will  be  sneered  down 
till  you  become  imbittered,  soured,  misanthropic  ;  a  curse 
to  yourself,  a  burden  to  the  friends  who  sympathize  with 
your  blasted  hopes.  Edna,  you  have  talent,  you  write  well, 
you  are  conscientious ;  but  you  are  not  De  Stael,  or  Hannah 
More,  or  Charlotte  Bronte,  or  Elizabeth  Browning  ;  and  I 
shudder  when  I  think  of  the  disappointment  that  may  over- 
take all  your  eager  aspirations.  If  I  could  be  always  near 
you,  I  should  indulge  less  apprehension  for  your  future ; 
for  I  believe  that  I  could  help  you  to  bear  patiently  what- 
ever is  in  store  for  you.  But  far  away  among  strangers 
you  must  struggle  alone." 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  I  do  not  rely  upon  myself;  my  hope  is 
in  God." 

"  My  child,  the  days  of  miraculous  inspiration  are 
ended." 

"  Ah  !  do  not  discourage  me.  When  the  Bishop  of  No- 
yon  hesitated  to  consecrate  St.  Radegund,  she  said  to  him, 
'  Thou  wilt  have  to  render  thy  account,  and  the  Sheuherd 
will  require  of  thee  the  souls  of  his  sheep.'  My  dear  sir, 
your  approbation  is  the  consecration  that  I  desire  upon  my 


ST.  ELMO.  293 

purpose.  God  will  not  forsake  me  ;  he  wJl  strengtLei-  and 
guide  me  and  bless  my  writing,  even  as  he  blesses  your 
preaching.  Because  he  gave  you  five  talents  and  to  me 
only  one,  do  you  think  that  in  the  great  day  of  reckoning 
mine  will  not  be  required  of  me  ?  I  do  not  expect  to  '  enter 
into  the  joy  of  my  Lord'  as  you  will  be  worthy  to  do  ;  but 
with  the  blessing  of  God,  I  trust  the  doom  of  the  alto 
gcther  unprofitable  servant  will  not  be  pronounced  against 
me." 

She  had  bowed  her  head  till  it  rested  on  his  knee,  and 
presently  the  old  man  put  his  hands  upon  the  glossy  hab 
and  murmured  solemnly  : 

"And  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing, shall  keep  your  heart  and  mind  through  Christ  Jesus." 

A  brief  silence  reigned  in  the  study,  broken  first  by  the 
shout  of  the  haymakers  and  the  rippling  laugh  of  the 
children  in  the  adjacent  field,  and  then  by  the  calm  voicf 
of  the  pastor : 

"  I  have  offered  you  a  home  with  me  as  long  as  I  have  a 
roof  that  I  can  call  my  own;  but  you  prefer  to  go  to  New- 
York,  and  henceforth  I  shall  never  cease  to  pray  that  your 
resolution  may  prove  fortunate  in  all  respects.  You  no 
longer  require  my  directions  in  your  studies,  but  I  will  sug- 
gest that  it  might  be  expedient  for  you  to  give  more  atten- 
tion to  positive  and  less  to  abstract  science.  Remembei 
those  noble  words  of  Sir  David  Brewster,  to  which,  I  be 
lieve,  I  have  already  called  your  attention,  '  If  the  God  of 
love  is  most  appropriately  worshiped  in  the  Christian  tem- 
ple, the  God  of  nature  may  be  equally  honored  in  the  tem- 
ple of  science.  Even  from  its  lofty  minarets  the  philosopher 
may  summon  the  faithful  to  prayer,  and  the  priest  and  the 
sage  may  exchange  altars  without  the  compromise  of  faith 
or  of  knowledge.'  Infidelity  has  shifted  the  battle-field 
from  metaphysics  to  physics,  from  idealism  and  rationalism 
to  positivism  or  rank  materialism ;  and  in  order  to  combat 
it  successfully,  in  order  t.-j  build  up  an  imperishable  system 


294  ST.  ELMO. 

of  Christian  teleology,  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  tho 
roughly  acquaint  yourself  with  the  '  natural  sciences,'  with 
dynamics,  and  all  the  so-called  '  inherent  forces  in  nature,' 
or  what  Humboldt  terms  '  primordial  necessity.'  This  apo- 
theosis of  dirt,  by  such  men  as  Moleschott,  Bilchner,  and 
Vogt,  is  the  real  Antaeus  which,  though  continually  over- 
thrown, springs  from  mother  earth  with  renewed  vigor  ; 
and  after  a  little  while  some  Hercules  of  science  will  lift 
the  boaster  in  his  inexorable  arms  and  crush  him." 

Here  Mrs.  Powell  entered  the  room,  and  Edna  rose  and 
tied  on  her  hat. 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  will  you  go  over  to  see  Huldah  this 
afternoon  ?  Poor  little  thing !  she  is  in  great  distress  about 
her  father." 

"  I  fear  lie  can  not  live  many  days.  I  went  to  see  him 
yesterday  morning,  and  would  go  again  with  you  now,  but 
have  promised  to  baptize  two  children  this  evening." 

Edna  was  opening  the  gate  when  Gertrude  called  to  her 
from  a  shaded  corner  of  the  yard,  and  turning,  she  saw  her 
playing  with  a  fawn,  about  whose  neck  she  had  twined  a 
long  spray  of  honeysuckle. 

"  Do  come  and  see  the  beautiful  present  Mr.  Murray  sent 
me  several  days  ago.  It  is  as  gentle  and  playful  as  a  kitten, 
and  seems  to  know  me  already." 

Gertrude  patted  the  head  of  her  pretty  pet  and  con- 
tinued : 

"  I  have  often  read  about  gazelle's  eyes,  and  I  wonder  if 
these  are  not  qtiite  as  lovely  ?  Very  often  when  I  look  at 
them  they  remind  me  of  yours.  There  is  such  a  soft,  sad, 
patient  expression,  as  if  she  knew  perfectly  well  that  some 
day  the  hunters  would  be  sure  to  catch  her  and  kill  her, 
and  she  was  meekly  biding  her  time,  to  be  turned  into  ven- 
ison steak.  I  never  will  eat  another  piece  !  The  dear  little 
thing  !  Edna,  do  you  know  that  you  have  the  most  beau- 
tiful eyes  in  the  world,  except  Mr.  Murray's  ?  His  glitter 
like  great  stars  under  long,  long  black  silk  fringe.     By  the 


ST.  ELMO.  295 

way,  how  is  he  ?  I  have  not  seen  him  for  some  days  and 
you  can  have  no  idea  how  I  do  want  to  look  int.*  his  face^ 
and  hear  his  voice,  which  is  so  wonderfully  sweet  and  low. 
I  wrote  him  a  note  thanking  him  for  this  little  spotted  dar- 
ling ;  but  he  has  not  answered  it — has  not  come  near  me, 
and  I  was  afraid  he  might  he  sick." 

Gertrude  stole  one  arm  around  her  companion's  neck, 
and  nestled  her  golden  head  against  the  orphan's  shoul- 
der. 

"  Mr.  Murray  is  very  well ;  at  least,  appears  so.  I  saw 
him  at  breakfast." 

"  Does  he  ever  talk  about  me  ?" 

"  No ;  I  never  heard  him  mention  your  name  but  once, 
and  then  it  occurred  incidentally." 

"  O  Edna !  is  it  wrong  for  me  to  think  about  him  so  con- 
stantly ?  Don't  press  your  lips  together  in  that  stern,  hard 
way.  Dearie,  put  your  arms  around  me,  and  kiss  me.  Oh  ! 
if  you  could  know  how  very  much  I  love  him !  How  happy 
I  am  when  he  is  with  me.  Edna,  how  can  I  help  it  ?  When 
he  touches  my  hand,  and  smiles  down  at  me,  I  forget  every 
thing  else  !  I  feel  as  if  I  would  follow  him  to  the  end  o\ 
the  earth.  He  is  a  great  deal  older  than  I  am  ;  but  how 
can  I  remember  that,  when  he  is  looking  at  me  with  those 

wonderful  eyes  ?     The  last  time  I  saw  him,  he  said well, 

something  very  sweet,  and  I  was  sure  he  loved  me,  and  I 
leaned  my  head  against  his  shoulder  ;  but  he  would  not  let 
me  touch  him ;  he  pushed  me  away  with  a  terrible  frown, 
that  wrinkled  and  blackened  his  face.  Oh !  it  seems  an  age 
since  then." 

Edna  kissed  the  lovely  coral  lips,  and  smoothed  the  bright 
curls  that  the  wind  had  blown  about  the  exquisitely  moulded 
cheeks. 

"  Gertrude,  when  he  asks  you  to  love  him,  you  will  i.ave 
a  right  to  indulge  your  affection ;  but  until  then  you  ought 
not  to  allow  him  to  know  your  feelings,  or  permit  yourself 
to  think  so  entirely  of  him." 


296  BT.  ELMO. 

"But  do  you  believe  it  is  wrong  for  me  to  love  him  so 
much  ?" 

"That  is  a  question  which  your  own  heart  must  an- 
swer." 

Edna  felt  that  her  own  lips  were  growing  cold,  and  she 
disengaged  the  girl's  clasping  arms. 

"Edna,  I  know  you  love  me;  will  you  do  something  for 
me  ?  Please  give  him  this  note.  I  am  afraid  that  he  did 
not  receive  the  other,  or  that  he  is  offended  with  me." 

She  drew  a  dainty  three-cornered  envelope  from  her 
pocket. 

"  No,  Gertrude ;  I  can  be  a  party  to  no  clandestine  coi'- 
respondence.  I  have  too  much  respect  for  your  uncle,  to 
assist  in  smuggling  letters  in  and  out  of  his  house.  Beside, 
your  mother  would  not  sanction  the  course  you  are  pur- 
suing." 

"  Oh !  I  showed  her  the  other  note,  and  she  only  laughed, 
and  patted  my  cheek,  and  said,  "  Why,  Mignonne  !  he  is 
old  enough  to  be  your  father."  This  note  is  only  to  find 
out  whether  he  received  the  other.     I  sent  it  by  the  servant 

who  brought  this  fawn oh  dear  me !  just  see  what  a  hole 

the  pretty  little  wretch  has  nibbled  in  my  new  Swiss  mus- 
lin dress  !  Won't  mamma  scold  !  There,  do  go  away,  pet 
I  will  feed  you  presently.  Indeed,  Edna,  there  is  no  harm 
in  your  taking  the  note,  for  I  give  you  my  word  mamma 
does  not  care.  Do  you  think  I  would  tell  you  a  story  ? 
Please,  Edna.  It  will  reach  him  so  much  sooner  if  you 
carry  it  over,  than  if  I  were  to  drop  it  into  the  post-office, 
where  it  may  stay  for  a  week  ;  and  Uncle  Allan  has  no  ex- 
tra servants  to  run  around  on  errands  for  me." 

"  Gertrude,  are  you  not  deceiving  me  ?  Are  you  sure 
your  mother  read  the  other  note  and  sanctions  this  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  you  may  ask  her  if  you  doubt  me.  There ! 
I  must  hurry  in  ;  mamma  is  calling  me.  Dear  Edna,  if  you 
love  me !     Yes,  mamma,  I  am  coming." 

Edna  could  not  resist  the  pleading  of  the  lovely  faca 


ST.  ELMO.  ,  297 

pressed  close  to  hers,  and  with  a  sigh  she  took  the  unv  note 
and  turned  away. 

More  than  a  week  had  elapsed  since  Mr.  Hammond  and 
Mrs.  Powell  had  written,  recommending  her  for  the  situa- 
tion in  Mrs.  Andrews's  family  ;  and  with  feverish  impa- 
tience she  awaited  the  result.  During  this  interval  she  had 
not  exchanged  a  word  with  Mr.  Murray — had  spent  much 
of  her  time  in  writing  down  in  her  note-book  such  refer- 
ence* from  the  library,  as  she  required  in  her  MS.  ;  and  while 
Estelle  seemed  unusually  high-spirited,  Mrs.  Murray  watched 
in  silence  the  orphan's  preparations  for  departure. 

Absorbed  in  very  painful  reflections,  the  girl  walked  on 
rapidly  till  she  reached  the  cheerless  home  of  the  black 
smith,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Murray." 

Edna  pushed  open  the  door  and  walked  in. 

"  It  is  not  Mr.  Murray,  this  time." 

"  O  Edna  !  I  am  so  glad  you  happened  to  come.  He 
would  not  let  me  tell  you  ;  he  said  he  did  not  wish  it  known. 
But  now  you  are  here,  you  will  stay  with  me,  won't  you, 
till  it  is  over  ?" 

Huldah  was  kneeling  at  the  side  of  her  father's  cot,  and 
Edna  was  startled  by  the  look  of  eager,  breathless  anxiety, 
printed  on  her  white,  trembling  face. 

"  What  does  she  mean,  Mr.  Reed  ?" 

"  Poor  little  lamb)  she  is  so  excited  she  can  hardly  speak, 
and  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  talk  much.  Huldah,  daugh- 
ter, tell  Miss  Edna  all  about  it." 

"  Mr.  Murray  heard  all  I  said  to  you  about  praying  to 
have  my  eyes  opened,  and  he  went  to  town  that  same  even- 
ing, and  telegraphed  to  some  doctor  in  Philadelphia,-  who 
cures  blindness,  to  come  on  and  see  if  he  could  do  any  thing 
for  my  eyes.  Mr.  Murray  was  here  this  morning,  and  said 
he  had  heard  from  the  doctor,  and  that  he  would  come  this 
afternoon.  He  said  he  could  only  stay  till  the  cars  left 
for  Chattanooga,  as  he  must  go  back  at  once.     You  know 


298        -  ST-  Elmo. 

he hush!     There!    there!     I  hear  the   carnage,  ik  w  . 

O  Edna  !  pray  for  me  !     Pa,  pray  for  my  poor  eyes  !" 

The  sweet  childish  face  was  colorless,  and  tears  filled 
the  filmy  hazel  eyes  as  Huldah  clasped  her  hands.  Her 
lips  moved  rapidly,  though  no  sound  was  audible. 

Edna  stepped  behind  the  door  and  peeped  through  a 
chink  in  the  planks. 

Mr.  Murray  entered  first  and  beckoned  to  the  stranger, 
who  paused  at  the  threshold,  with  a  case  of  instruments  in 
his  hand. 

"  Come  in,  Hugh  ;  here  is  your  patient,  very  much  fright- 
ened, too,  I  am  afraid.     Huldah,  come  to  the  light." 

He  drew  her  to  the  window,  lifted  her  to  a  chair,  and  the 
doctor  beut  down,  pushed  back  his  spectacles,  and  cautiously 
examined  the  child's  eyes. 

"  Don't  tremble  so,  Huldah  ;  there  is  nothing  to  be  afraid 
of.     The  doctor  will  not  hurt  you." 

"  Oh  !  it  is  not  that  I  fear  to  be  hurt !  Edna,  are  you 
praying  for  me  ?" 

"Edna  is  not  here,"  answered  Mr.  Murray,  glancing 
round  the  room. 

"  Yes,  she  is  here.  I  did  not  tell  her,  but  she  happened 
to  come  a  little  while  ago.  Edna,  won't  you  hold  one  of 
my  hands  ?     O  Edna  !  Edna  !  " 

Reluctantly  the  orphan  came  forward,  and,  without  lifting 
her  eyes,  took  one  of  the  little  outstretched  hands  firmly  in 
both  her  own.  While  Mr.  Murray  silently  appropriated 
the  other,  Huldah  whispered  : 

"  Please,  both  of  you  pray  for  me." 

The  doctor  raised  the  eyelids  several  times,  peered  long 
and  curiously  at  the  eyeballs,  and  opened  his  case  of  in- 
struments. 

"This  is  one  of  those  instarces  of  congenital  cataract 
which  might  have  been  relieved  long  ago.  A  slight  oper- 
ation will  remove  the  difficulty.  St.  Elmo,  you  asked  me 
about  the  probability  of  an  instantaneous  restoration,  and 


ST.  ELMO.  29S 

*.  had  begun  to  tell  you  about  that  case  which  Wardrop 
mentions  of  a  woman  blind  from  her  birth  till  she  waa 
forty-six  years  of  age.  She  could  not  distinguish  objects 
for  several  days.     ..." 

"  O  sir  !  will  I  see  ?  Will  I  see  my  father  ?"  Her  ringers 
closed  spasmodically  over  those  that  clasped  them,  and  the 
agonizing  suspense  written  in  her  countenance  was  pitiable 
to  contemplate. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  hope  so — I  think  so.  You  know,  Mur- 
ray, the  eye  has  to  be  trained  ;  but  Haller  mentions  a  case 
of  a  nobleman  who  saw  distinctly  at  various  distances,  im- 
mediately after  the  cataract  was  removed  from  the  axis  of 
vision.  Now  my  little  girl,  hold  just  as  still  as  possible. 
I  shall  not  hurt  you." 

Skilfully  he  cut  through  the  membrane  and  drew  it  down, 
then  held  his  hat  between  her  eyes  and  the  light  streaming 
through  the  window. 

Some  seconds  elapsed  and  suddenly  a  cry  broke  from  the 
child's  lips. 

"  Oh !  something  shines  !  there  is  a  light,  I  believe  !" 

Mr.  Murray  threw  his  handkerchief  over  her  head,  caught 
her  in  his  arms  and  placed  her  on  the  side  of  the  cot. 

"  The  first  face  her  eyes  ever  look  upon,  shall  be  that 
which  she  loves  best — her  father's." 

As  he  withdrew  the  handkerchief  Mr.  Reed  feebly  raked 
his  arms  toward  his  child,  and  whispered: 

"  My  little  Huldah — my  daughter,  can  you  see  me  ?" 

She  stooped,  put  her  face  close  to  his,  swept  her  small 
fingers  repeatedly  over  the  emaciated  features,  to  convince 
herself  of  the  identity  of  the  new  sensation  of  sight  with 
the  old  and  reliable  sense  of  touch ;  then  she  threw  her 
head  back  with  a  wild  laugh,  a  scream  of  delight. 

"  Oh  !  I  see !  Thank  God  I  see  my  father's  face  !  My  dear 
pa  !  my  own  dear  pa  !  " 

For  some  moments  she  hung  over  the  sufferer  kissing 
him,  murmuring  brokenly  her  happy,  tender  words,  and 
now  and  then  resorting  to  the  old  sense  of  touch. 


800  82.  ELMO. 

While  Edna  wiped  away  tears  of  joyful  sympathy  which 
she  strove  in  vain  to  restrain,  she  glanced  at  Mr.  Murray, 
and  wondered  how  he  could  stand  there  watching  the  scene 
with  such  bright,  dry  eyes. 

Seeming  suddenly  to  remember  that  there  were  other 
countenances  in  the  world  beside  that  tear-stained  one  on 
the  pillow,  Huldah  slipped  down  from  the  cot,  turned  to- 
ward the  group,  and  shaded  her  eyes  with  her  fingers. 

"  0  Edna !  an't  you  glad  for  me  ?  Where  are  you  ?  I 
knew  Jesus  would  hear  me.  '  What  things  soever  ye  desire, 
when  ye  pray  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye  shall 
have  them.'  I  did  believe,  and  I  see !  I  see  !  I  prayed 
that  God  would  send  down  some  angel  to  touch  my  eyes, 
and  He  sent  Mr.  Murray  and  the  doctor." 

After  a  pause,  during  which  the  oculist  prepared  some 
bandages,  Huldah  added : 

"  Which  one  is  Mr.  Murray  ?  Will  you,  please,  come  to 
me  ?  My  ears  and  my  fingers  know  you,  but  my  eyes 
don't." 

He  stepped  forward  and  putting  out  her  hands  she  grasped 
his,  and  turned  her  untutored  eyes  upon  him.  Before  he 
could  suspect  her  design  she  fell  at  his  feet,  threw  her  arms 
around  his  knees,  and  exclaimed : 

"  How  good  you  are  !  How  shall  I  ever  thank  you 
enough  ?  How  good."  She  clung  to  him  and  sobbed  hys- 
terically. 

Edna  saw  him  lift  her  from  the  floor  and  put  her  back 
beside  her  father,  while  the  doctor  bandaged  her  eyes;  and 
waiting  to  hear  no  more,  the  orphan  glided  away  and  hur- 
ried along  the  road. 

Ere  she  had  proceeded  far^she  heard  the  quick  trot  of  the 
horses,  the  roll  of  the  carriage.  Leaning  out  as  they  over- 
took her,  Mr.  Murray  directed  the  driver  to  stop,  and 
swinging  open  the  door,  he  stepped  out  and  approached  her. 

"  The  doctor  dines  at  Le  Bocage  ;  will  you  take  a  seaT 
with  us,  or  do  you,  as  usual,  prefer  to  walk  alone?" 


ST.  ELMO.  301 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  am  not  going  home  now,  I  shaL 
walk  on." 

He  bowed,  and  was  turning  away,  but  she  drew  the  de- 
.'icateiy  perfumed  envelope  from  her  pocket. 

"  Mr.  Murray,  I  was  requested  by  the  writer  to  hand  you 
this  note,  as  she  feared  its  predecessor  was  lost  by  the  ser- 
vant to  whom  she  intrusted  it." 

He  took  it,  glanced  at  the  small,  cramped,  school-girlish 
handwriting,  smiled,  and  thrust  it  into  his  vest-pocket, 
saying  in  a  low  earnest  tone  : 

"  This  is,  indeed,  a  joyful  surprise.  You  are  certainly 
more  reliable  than  Henry.  Accept  my  cordial  thanks,  which 
I  have  not  time  to  reiterate.  I  generally  prefer  to  owe  my 
happiness  entirely  to  Gertrude;  but  in  this  instance  I  can 
bear  to  receive  it  through  the  medium  of  your  hands.  As 
you  are  so  prompt  and  trusty,  I  may  trouble  you  to  carry 
my  answer." 

The  carriage  rolled  on,  leaving  a  cloud  of  dust  which  the 
evening  sunshine  converted  into  a  glittering  track  of  glory, 
and  seating  herself  on  a  grassy  bank,  Edna  leaned  her  head 
against  the  body  of  a  tree ;  and  all  the  glory  passed  swiftly 
away,  and  she  was  alone  in  the  dust. 

As  the  sun  went  down,  the  pillared  forest  aisles  stretch- 
ing westward  filled  first  with  golden  haze,  then  glowed  with 
a  light  redder  than  Phthiotan  wine  poured  from  the  burn- 
ing beaker  of  the  sun;  and  only  the  mournful  cooing  of 
doves  broke  the  solemn  silence  as  the  pine  organ  whispered 
its  low  coranach  for  the  dead  day;  and  the  cool  shadow  of 
coming  night  crept,  purple-mantled,  velvet-sandaled,  down 
the  forest  glades. 

"  Oh !  if  I  had  gone  away  a  week  ago !  before  I  knew 
there  was  any  redeeming  charity  in  his  sinful  nature  !  If  I 
could  only  despise  him  utterly,  it  would  be  so  much  easier 
to  forget  him.  Ah !  God  pity  me  !  God  help  me  !  "What 
right  have  I  to  think  of  Gertrude's  lover — Gertrude's  hus- 
band !    I  ought  to  be  glad  that  he  is  nobler  than  I  thought, 


302  8T.  ELMO. 

but  I  am  not  !  Oh !  I  am  not  !  I  wish  I  bad  never  known 
the  good  that  he  has  done.  O  Edna  Earl  !  has  it  come  tc 
this  ?  has  it  come  to  this  ?  How  I  despise — how  I  hate  my- 
self !  " 

Rising,  she  shook  back  her  thick  hair,  passed  her  hands 
over  her  hot  temples,  and  stood  listening  to  the  distant 
whistle  of  a  partridge — to  the  plaint  of  the  lonely  dove 
nestled  among  the  pine  boughs  high  above  her ;  and  gra- 
dually a  holy  calm  stole  over  her  face,  fixing  it  as  the 
merciful  touch  of  death  stills  features  that  have  long  writh- 
ed in  mortal  agony.  Into  her  struggling  heart  entered  a 
strength  which  comes  only  when  weary,  wrestling,  honest 
souls  turn  from  human  sympathy,  seek  the  hallowed  clois- 
ters of  Nature,  and  are  folded  tenderly  in  the  loving  arms 
of  Mother  Cybele,  who  '  never  did  betray  the  heart  that 
loved  her.' 

"  Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky    .    .     .     Tis  her  privilege, 
Through  all  the  years  of  this  our  life,  to  lead 
From  joy  to  joy  ;  for  she  can  so  inform 
The  mind  that  is  within  us,  so  impress 
With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  'evil  tongues, 
Eash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men, 
Nor  greetings  where  no  kindness  is — nor  all 
The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life, 
Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  disturb 
Our  cheerful  faith,  that  all  which  we  behold 
Is  full  of  blessing." 

To  her  dewy  altars  among  the  mountains  of  Gilead  fled 
Jephthah's  daughter,  in  the  days  when  she  sought  for 
strength  to  fulfil  her  father's  battle-vow  ;  and  into  her  pity- 
ing starry  eyes  looked  stricken  Rizpah,  from  those  dreary 
rocks  where  love  held  faithful  vigil,  guarding  the  bleaching 
bones  of  her  darling  dead,  sacrificed  for  the  sins  of  SauL 


CHAPTER  XXEL 


RS.  ANDREWS  writes  that  I  must  go  on  with  aa 
little  delay  as  possible,  and  I  shall  start  early 
Monday  morning,  as  I  wish  to  stop  for  one  day 
at  Chattanooga." 

Edna  rose  and  took  her  hat  from  the  study-table,  and 
Mr.  Hammond  asked : 

"  Do  you  intend  to  travel  alone  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  compelled  to  do  so,  as  I  know  of  no  one  who 
is  going  on  to  New- York.  Of  course,  I  dislike  very  much 
to  travel  alone,  but  in  this  instance  I  do  not  see  how  I  cai 
avoid  it." 

"  Do  not  put  on  your  hat — stay  and  spend  the  evening 
with  me." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  want  to  go  to  the  church  and  prac- 
tise for  the  last  time  on  the  organ.  After  to-morrow,  I  may 
never  sing  again  in  our  dear  choir.  Perhaps  I  may  come 
back  after  a  while  and  stay  an  hour  or  two  with  you." 

During  the  past  year  she  had  accustomed  herself  to  prac- 
tising every  Saturday  afternoon  the  hymns  selected  by 
Mr.  Hammond  for  the  services  of  the  ensuing  day,  and  for 
this  purpose  had  been  furnished  by  the  sexton  with  a  key, 
which  enabled  her  to  enter  the  church  whenever  inclination 
prompted.  The  church-yard  was  peaceful  and  silent  as 
the  pulseless  dust  in  its  numerous  sepulchres  ;  a  beautiful 
red-bird  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  marble  vase  that  crowned  the 
top  of  one  of  the  monuments,  and  leisurely  drank  the  water 
which  yesterday's  clouds  had  poured  there,  and  a  rabbit 


304  ST.  ELMO. 

nibbled  the  leaves  of  a  cluster  of  pinks  growing  near  a  chLd's 
grave. 

Edna  entered  the  cool  church,  went  up  into  the  gallery, 
and  sat  down  before  the  organ.  For  some  time  the  low 
solemn  tones  whispered  among  the  fluted  columns  that 
supported  the  gallery,  and  gradually  swelled  louder  and 
fuller  and  richer  as  she  sang : 

"  Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord." 

Her  magnificent  voice  faltered  more  than  once,  and  tears 
fell  thick  and  fast  on  the  keys.  Finally  she  turned  and 
looked  down  at  the  sacred  spot  where  she  had  been  bap- 
tized by  Mr.  Hammond,  and  where  she  had  so  often  knelt 
to  receive  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

The  church  was  remarkably  handsome  and  tasteful,  and 
certainly  justified  the  pride  with  which  the  villagers  exhib- 
ited it  to  all  strangers.  The  massive  mahogany  pew-doors 
were  elaborately  carved  and  surmounted  by  small  crosses ; 
the  tall,  arched  windows  were  of  superb  stained  glass,  re- 
presenting the  twelve  apostles ;  the  floor  and  balustrade  of 
the  altar,  and  the  grand,  Gothic  pillared  pulpit,  were  all  of 
the  purest  white  marble ;  and  the  capitals,  of  the  airy,  ele- 
gant columns  of  the  same  material,  that  supported  the  organ 
gallery,  were  ornamented  with  rich  grape-leaf  mouldings ; 
while  the  large  window  behind  and  above  the  pulpit  con- 
tained a  figure  of  Christ  bearing  his  Cross — a  noble  copy 
of  the  great  painting  of  Solario,  at  Berlin. 

As  the  afternoon  sun  shone  on  the  glass,  a  flood  of  ruby 
light  fell  from  the  garments  of  Jesus  upon  the  glittering 
marble  beneath,  and  the  nimbus  that  radiated  around  the 
crown  of  thorns  caught  a  glory  that  was  dazzling. 

With  a  feeling  of  adoration  that  no  language  could  ade- 
quately express,  Edna  had  watched  and  studied  this  costly 
painted  window  for  five  long  years ;  had  found  a  marvel- 
lous fascination  in  the  pallid  face  stained  with  purplish 
blood  drops ;  in  the  parted  lips  quivering  with  human  pain, 


ST.  ELMO.  305 

end  anguish  of  spirit ;  in  the  unfathonuLe  divine  eyet  that 
pierced  the  veil  and  rested  upon  the  Father's  face.  Not  all 
the  sermons  of  Bossuet,  or  Chalmers,  or  Jeremy  Taylor,  or 
Melville,  had  power  to  stir  the  great  deeps  of  her  soul  like 
one  glance  at  that  pale  thorn-crowned  Christ,  who  looked  in 
voiceless  woe  and  sublime  resignation  over  the  world  he 
was  dying  to  redeem. 

To-day  she  gazed  up  at  the  picture  of  Emmanuel,  till 
her  eyes  grew  dim  with  tears,  and  she  leaned  her  head 
against  the  mahogany  railing  and  murmured  sadly : 

" '  And  he  that  taketh  not  his  cross,  and  followeth  after 
me,  is  not  worthy  of  me !'  Strengthen  me,  O  my  Saviour ! 
bo  that  I  neither  faint  nor  stagger  under  mine  !" 

The  echo  of  her  words  died  away  among  the  arches  of 
the  roof,  and  all  was  still  in  the  sanctuary.  The  swaying 
of  the  trees  outside  of  the  windows  threw  now  a  golden 
shimmer,  then  a  violet  shadow  over  the  gleaming  altar  pave- 
ment ;  and  the  sun  sank  lower,  and  the  nimbus  faded,  and 
the  wan  Christ  looked  ghastly  and  toil-spent. 

"Edna  !     My  darling  !   my  darling  !" 

The  pleading  cry,  the  tremulous,  tender  voice  so  full  of 
pathos,  rang  startlingly  through  the  silent  church,  and  the 
orphan  sprang  up  and  saw  Mr.  Murray  standing  at  her 
side,  with  his  arms  extended  toward  her,  and  a  glow  on  his 
face  and  a  look  in  his  eyes  which  she  had  never  seen  there 
before. 

She  drew  back  a  few  steps  and  gazed  wonderingly  at 
him ;  but  he  followed,  threw  his  arm  around  her,  and,  de- 
spite her  resistance,  strained  her  to  his  heart. 

"  Did  you  believe  that  I  would  let  you  go  ?  Did  you 
dream  that  I  would  see  my  darling  leave  me,  and  go  out 
into  the  world  to  be  buffeted  and  sorely  tried,  to  struggle 
with  poverty — and  to  suffer  alone  ?  O  silly  child !  I 
would  part  with  my  own  life  sooner  than  give  you  up! 
Of  what  value  would  it  be  without  you,  my  pearl,  my  sole 
hope,  my  only  love,  my  own  pure  Edna " 


306  ST-  elmo. 

"  Such  language  you  have  no  right  to  utter,  and  I  r.one  to 
hear !  It  is  dishonorable  in  you  and  insulting  to  me.  Ger- 
trude's lover  can  not,  and  shall  not,  address  such  words  to 
me.     Unwind  your  arms  instantly !     Let  me  go  !" 

She  struggled  hard  to  free  herself,  but  his  clasp  tighten- 
ed, and  as  he  pressed  her  face  against  his  bosom,  he  threw 
his  head  back  and  laughed: 

" '  Gertrude's  lover !'  Knowing  my  history,  how  could 
you  believe  that  possible  ?  Am  I,  think  you,  so  meek  and 
forgiving  a  spirit  as  to  turn  and  kiss  the  hand  that  smote 
me  ?  Gertrude's  lover !  Ha !  ha  ! !  Your  jealousy  blinds 
you,  my " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  history ;  I  have  never  asked  ; 
I  have  never  been  told  one  word !  But  I  am  not  blind, 
I  know  that  you  love  her,  and  I  know,  too,  that  she  fully 
reciprocates  your  affection.  If  you  do  not  wish  me  to  de- 
spise you  utterly,  leave  me  at  once." 

He  laughed  again,  and  put  his  lips  close  to  her  ear,  saying 
softly,  tenderly — ah!  how  tenderly: 

"  Upon  my  honor  as  a  gentleman,  I  solemnly  swear  that 
I  love  but  one  woman ;  that  I  love  her  as  no  other  woman 
ever  was  loved  ;  with  a  love  that  passes  all  language ;  a 
love  that  is  the  only  light  and  hope  of  a  wrecked,  cursed, 
unutterably  miserable  life ;  and  that  idol  which  I  have  set 
up  in  the  lonely  gray  ruins  of  my  heart  is  Edna  Earl  J" 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  !  You  have  no  honor !  With  the 
touch  of  Gertrude's  lips  and  arms  still  on  yours,  you  come 
to  me  and  dare  to  perjure  yourself !  O  Mr.  Murray ! 
Mr.  Murray  !  I  did  not  believe  you  capable  of  such  despic- 
able dissimulation  !  In  the  catalogue  of  your  sins,  I  never 
counted  deceit,  I  thought  you  too  proud  to  play  the  hypo- 
crite. If  you  could  realize  how  I  loathe  and  abhor  you, 
you  would  get  out  of  my  sight !  You  would  not  waste 
time  in  words  that  sink  you  deeper  and  deeper  in  shameful 
duplicity.     Poor   Gertrude !     How   entirely   you   mistake 


8T.  ELMO.  3((7 

your  lover's  character!  How  youi  lov€  v^ll  change  to 
scorn  and  detestation  !" 

In  vain  she  endeavored  to  wrench  away  Ms  arm  ,  a  hand 
of  steel  would  have  heen  as  flexible ;  but  St.  Elmo's  voice 
hardened,  and  Edna  felt  his  heart  throb  fiercely  against  her 
cheek  as  he  answered  : 

"When  you  are  my  wife  you  will  repent  your  rash 
words,  and  blush  at  the  remembrance  of  having  told  your 
husband  that  he  was  devoid  of  honor.  You  are  piqued  and 
jealous,  just  as  I  intended  you  should  be ;  but,  darling,  I 
am  not  a  patient  man,  and  it  frets  me  to  feel  you  struggling 
so  desperately  in  the  arms  that  henceforth  will  always  en- 
fold you.  Be  quiet  and  hear  me,  for  I  have  much  to  tell 
you.  Don't  turn  your  face  away  from  mine,  your  lips  be- 
long to  me.  I  never  kissed  Gertrude  in  my  life,  and  so  help 
me  God,  I  never  will !     Hear " 

"  No !  I  will  hear  nothing  !  Your  touch  is  profanation. 
I  would  sooner  go  down  into  my  grave,  out  there  in  the 
church-yard,  under  the  granite  slabs,  than  become  the  wife 
of  a  man  so  unprincipled.  I  am  neither  piqued  nor  jealous, 
for  your  affairs  can  not  affect  my  life ;  I  am  only  astonished 
and  mortified  and  grieved.  I  would  sooner  feel  the  coil  of 
a  serpent  around  my  waist  than  your  arms." 

Instantly  they  fell  away.  He  crossed  them  on  his  chest, 
and  his  voice  sank  to  a  husky  whisper,  as  the  wind  hushes 
itself  just  before  the  storm  breaks. 

"  Edna,  God  is  my  witness  that  I  am  not  deceiving  you ; 
that  my  words  come  from  the  great  troubled  depths  of  a 
wretched  heart.  You  said  you  knew  nothing  of  my  his- 
tory. I  find  it  more  difficult  to  believe  you  than  you  to 
credit  my  declarations.  Answer  one  question:  Has  not 
your  pastor  taught  you  to  distrust  me  ?  Can  it  be  possible 
that  no  hint  of  the  past  has  fallen  from  his  lips  ?" 

"  Not  one  unkind  word,  not  one  syllable  of  your*  history 
has  he  uttered.  I  know  no  more  of  your  past  than  if  it 
were  buried  in  mid-osean." 


g08  ST.  ELMO. 

Mr.  Murray  placed  her  in  one  of  the  cushioned  chaiis  de- 
signed for  the  use  of  the  choir,  and  leaning  back  against 
the  railing  of  the  gallery,  fixed  his  eyes  on  Edna's  face. 

"  Then  it  is  not  surprising  that  you  distrust  me,  for  you 
know  not  my  provocation.  Edna,  will  you  be  patient  ? 
Will  you  go  back  with  me  over  the  scorched  and  blackened 
track  of  an  accursed  and  sinful  life  ?  Ha !  it  is  a  hideous 
waste  I  am  inviting  you  to  traverse  !     "Will  you  ?" 

"  I  will  hear  you,  Mr.  Murray,  but  nothing  that  you  can 
say  will  exculpate  your  duplicity  to  Gertrude,  and " 

"D — n  Gertrude  !  I  ask  you  to  listen,  and  suspend 
your  judgment  till  you  know  the  circumstances." 

He  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  in  the  brief  si- 
lence she  heard  the  ticking  of  his  watch. 

"Edna,  I  roll  away  the  stone  from  the  charnel-house  of 
the  past,  and  call  forth  the  Lazarus  of  my  buried  youth, 
my  hopes,  my  faith  in  God,  my  trust  in  human  nature,  my 
charity,  my  slaughtered  manhood !  My  Lazarus  has  ten- 
anted the  grave  for  nearly  twenty  years,  and  comes  forth, 
at  my  bidding,  a  grinning  skeleton.  You  may  or  may  not 
know  that  my  father,  Paul  Murray,  died  when  I  was  an  in- 
fant, leaving  my  mother  the  sole  guardian  of  my  property 
and  person.  I  grew  up  at  Le  Bocage  under  the  training 
of  Mr.  Hammond,  my  tutor;  and  my  only  associate,  my 
companion  from  earliest  recollection,  was  his  son  Murray, 
who  was  two  years  my  senior,  and  named  for  my  father. 
The  hold  which  that  boy  took  upon  my  affection  was  won- 
derful, inexplicable !  He  wound  me  around  his  finger  as 
you  wind  the  silken  threads  with  which  you  embroider, 
We  studied,  read,  played  together.  I  was  never  contented 
out  of  his  sight,  never  satisfied  until  I  saw  him  liberally 
supplied  with  every  thing  that  gave  me  pleasure.  I  believe 
I  was  very  precocious,  and  made  extraordinary  strides  in 
the  path  of  learning ;  at  all  events,  at  sixteen  I  was  consid- 
ered a  remarkable  boy.  Mr.  Hammond  had  six  children ; 
and  as  his  salary  was  rather  meagre,  I  insisted  on  paying 


ST.  MLMa  309 

his  son's  expenses  as  well  us  my  own  when  I  tvert  Sc  Yale, 
I  could  not  bear  that  my  Damon,  my  Jonathan,  slould  be 
out  of  my  sight ;  I  must  have  my  idol  always  with  me* 
His  father  was  educating  him  for  the  ministry,  and  he  had 
already  commenced  the  study  of  theology  ;  but  no  !  I  must 
have  him  with  me  at  Yale,  and  so  to  Yale  we  went.  I  had 
fancied  myself  a  Christian,  had  joined  the  church,  was  zeal- 
ous and  faithful  in  all  my  religious  duties.  In  a  fit  of  pious 
enthusiasm  I  planned  this  church — ordered  it  built.  The 
cost  was  enormous,  and  my  mother  objected,  but  I  intend- 
ed it  as  a  shrine  for  the  '  apple  of  my  eye,'  and  where  he 
was  concerned,  what  mattered  the  expenditure  of  thou- 
sands ?  Was  not  my  fortune  quite  as  much  at  his  disposal 
as  at  mine  ?  I  looked  forward  with  fond  pride  to  the  time 
when  I  should  see  my  idol — Murray  Hammond — standing 
in  yonder  shining  pulpit.  Ha !  at  this  instant  it  is  filled 
with  a  hideous  spectre !  I  see  him  there !  His  form  and 
features  mocking  me,  daring  me  to  forget !  Handsome  as 
Apollo  !  treacherous  as  Apollyon  !" 

He  paused,  pointing  to  the  pure  marble  pile  where  a  vio- 
let flame  seemed  flickering,  and  then  with  a  groan  bowed 
his  head  upon  the  railing.  When  he  spoke  again,  his  face 
wore  an  ashy  hue,  and  his  stern  mouth  was  unsteady. 

u  Hallowed  days  of  my  blessed  boyhood  !  Ah  !  they  rise 
before  me  now,  like  holy  burning  stars,  breakiug  out  in  a 
stormy  howling  night,  making  the  blackness  blacker  still ! 
My  short  happy  springtime  of  life  !  So  full  of  noble  aspira- 
tions, of  glowing  hopes,  of  philanthropic  schemes,  of  all 
charitable  projects  !  I  would  do  so  much  good  with  my 
money  !  my  heart  was  brimming  with  generous  impulses, 
with  warm  sympathy  and  care  for  my  fellow-creatures. 
Every  needy  sufferer  should  find  relief  at  my  hands,  as  long 
as  I  possessed  a  dollar  or  a  crust !  As  I  look  back  now  at 
that  dead  self,  and  remember  all  that  I  was,  all  the  purity 
of  my  life,  the  nobility  of  my  character,  the  tenderness  of 
my  heart — I  do  not  wonder  that  people  who  knew  me  then^ 


310  ST.  ELMO. 

predicted  that  I  would  prove  an  honor,  a  blessing  to  my 
race !  Mark  you !  that  was  St.  Elmo  Murray — as  nature 
fashioned  him ;  before  man  spoiled  God's  handiwork. 
Back !  back  to  your  shroud  and  sepulchre,  O  Lazarus 
of  my  youth  !  and  when  I  am  called  to  the  final  judgment, 
rise  for  me  !    stand  in  my  place,  and  confront  those  who 

slaughtered   you ! My  affection   for  my 

chum,  Murray,  increased  as  I  grew  up  to  manhood,  and  there 
was  not  a  dream  of  my  brain,  a  hope  of  my  heart  which 
was  not  confided  to  him.  I  reverenced,  I  trusted,  I  almost 
— nay  I  quite  worshipped  him !  When  I  was  only  eighteen 
I  began  to  love  his  cousin,  whose  father  was  pastor  of  a 
church  in  New-Haven,  and  whose  mother  was  Mr.  Ham- 
mond's sister.  You  have  seen  her.  She  is  beautiful  even 
now,  and  you  can  imagine  how  lovely  Agnes  Hunt  was  in 
her  girlhood.  She  was  the  belle  and  pet  of  the  students, 
and  before  I  had  known  her  a  month,  I  was  her  accepted 
lover.  I  loved  her  with  all  the  devotion  of  my  chivalric, 
ardent,  boyish  nature ;  and  for  me  she  professed  the  most 
profound  attachment.  Pier  parents  favored  our  wishes  for 
an  early  marriage,  but  my  mother  refused  to  sanction  such 
an  idea  until  I  had  completed  my  education,  and  visited 
the  old  world.  I  was  an  obedient,  affectionate  son  then,  and 
yielded  respectfully  ;  but  as  the  vacation  approached,  I  pre- 
pared to  come  home,  hoping  to  prevail  on  mother  to  consent 
to  my  being  married  just  before  we  sailed  for  Europe  the 
ensuing  year,  after  I  graduated.  Murray  was  my  confidant 
and  adviser.  In  his  sympathizing  ears  I  poured  all  my  fond 
hopes,  and  he  insisted  that  I  ought  to  take  my  lovely  bride 
with  me  ;  it  would  be  cruel  to  leave  her  so  long  ;  and  beside, 
he  was  so  impatient  for  the  happy  day  when  he  should  call 
me  his  cousin.  He  declined  coming  home,  on  the  plea  of 
desiring  to  prosecute  his  theological  studies  with  his  uncle, 
Mr.  Hunt.  Well  do  I  recollect  the  parting  between  us. 
I  had  left  Agnes  in  tears — inconsolable  because  of  my  de- 
parture ;  and  I  flew  to  Murray  for  words  of  consolation. 


ST.  ®LMO.  3H 

When  I  bade  him  good-bye  my  eyes  were  full  ot  tears,  an.l 
as  he  passed  his  arm  around  my  shoulders,  I  whispered, 
'  Murray,  take  care  of  my  angel  Agnes  for  me  !  watch  over 
and  .comfort  her  while  I  am  away.'  Ah  !  as  I  stand  here 
to-day,  I  hear  again  ringing  over  the  ruins  of  the  past 
twenty  years,  his  sweet  loving  musical  tones  answering : 

*'  'My  dear  boy,  trust  her  to  my  care.  St.  Elmo,  for  your 
dear  sake  I  will  steal  time  from  my  books  to  cheer  her 
while  you  are  absent.  But  hurry  back,  for  you  know  I 
find  black-letter  more  attractive  than!  blue  eyes.  God  blesa 
you,  my  precious  friend.     Write  to  me  constantly.' 

"  Since  then,  I  always  shudder  involuntarily  when  I  hear 
parting  friends  bless  each  other — for  well,  well  do  I  know 
the  stinging  curse  coiled  up  in  those  smooth  liquid 
words !  I  came  home  and  busied  myself  in  the  erection  of 
this  church ;  in  plans  for  Murray's  advancement  in  life,  as 
well  as  my  own.  My  importunity  prevailed  over  my 
mother's  sensible  objections,  and  she  finally  consented  that 
I  should  take  my  bride  to  Europe  ;  while  I  had  informed 
Mr.  Hammond  that  I  wished  Murray  to  accompany  us; 
that  I  would  gladly  pay  his  travelling  expenses — I  was  so 
anxious  for  him  to  see  the  East,  especially  Palestine.  Full 
of  happy  hopes,  I  hurried  back  earlier  than  I  had  intended, 
and  reached  New-Haven  very  unexpectedly.  The  night 
was  bright  with  moonshine,  my  heart  was  bright  with 
hope,  and  too  eager  to  see  Agnes,  whose  letters  had  breathed 
the  most  tender  solicitude  and  attachment,  I  rushed  up  the 
steps,  and  was  told  that  she  was  walking  in  the  little  flower- 
garden.  Down  the  path  I  hurried,  and  stopped  as  I  heard 
her  silvery  laugh  blended  with  Murray's ;  then  my  name 
was  pronounced  in  tones  that  almost  petrified  me.  Under 
a  large  apple-tree  in  the  parsonage-garden  they  sat  on  a 
wooden  bench,  and  only  the  tendrils  and  branches  of  an 
Isabella  grape-vine  divided  us.  I  stood  there,  grasping  the 
vine — looking  through  the  leaves  at  the  two  whom  I  had 
so   idolized;  and  saw  her  beautiful  golden  head   flashing 


312  ST-  ELMO. 

in  the  moonlight  as  she  rested  it  on  her  cousin's  breast 
heard  and'  saw  their  kisses  ;  heard  — —  what  wrecked, 
blasted  me  !  I  heard  myself  ridiculed — sneered  at — ma- 
ligned ;  heard  that  I  was  to  be  a  mere  puppet — a  cat's 
paw ;  that  I  was  a  doting,  silly  fool — easily  hoodwinked ; 
that  she  found  it  difficult,  almost  impossible,  to  endure  my 
caresses  ;  that  she  shuddered  in  my  arms,  and  flew  for  hap- 
piness to  his !  I  heard  that  from  the  beginning  I  had  been 
duped;  that  they  had  always  loved  each  other — always 
would ;  but  poverty  stubbornly  barred  their  marriage — 
and  she  must  be  sacrificed  to  secure  my  princely  fortune 
for  the  use  of  both  !  All  that  was  uttered  I  can  not  now 
recapitulate ;  but  it  is  carefully  embalmed,  and  lies  in  the 
little  Taj  Mahal,  among  other  cherished  souvenirs  of  my 
precious  friendships !  While  I  stood  there,  I  was  trans- 
formed ;  the  soul  of  St.  Elmo  seem  to  pass  away — a  fiend 
took  possession  of  me  ;  love  died,  hope  with  it — and  an  insati- 
able thirst  for  vengeance  set  my  blood  on  fire.  During 
those  ten  miuutes  my  whole  nature  wTas  warped,  distorted ; 
my  life  blasted — mutilated — deformed.  The  loss  of  Agnes's 
love  I  could  have  borne,  nay — fool  that  I  was  ! — I  think 
ray  quondam  generous  affection  for  Murray  would  have 
made  me  relinquish  her  almost* resignedly,  if  his  happiness 
had  demanded  the  sacrifice  on  my  part.  If  he  had  come  to 
me  frankly  and  acknowledged  all,  my  insane  idolatry  would 
have  made  me  place  her  hand  in  his,  and  remove  the  barrier 
of  poverty ;  and  the  assurance  that  I  had  secured  his  life-long 
happiness  would  have  sufficed  for  mine.  Oh !  the  height 
and  depth  and  marvellous  strength  of  my  love  for  that 
man  passes  comprehension  !  But  their  scorn,  their  sneers 
at  my  weak  credulity,  their  bitter  ridicule  of  my  awkward, 
overgrown  boyishness,  stung  me  to  desperation.  I  won- 
dered if  I  were  insane,  or  dreaming,  or  the  victim  of  some 
horrible  delusion.  My  veins  ran  fire  as  I  listeued  to  the 
tangling  of  her  silvery  voice  with  the  rich  melody  of  his, 
and  I  turned  and  left  the  garden,  and  walked  back  toward 


ST.  ELMO.  313 

the  town.  The  moon  was  full,  but  I  staggered  and  groped 
my  way  like  one  blind  to  the  college  buildings.  I  knew 
where  a  pair  of  pistols  was  kept  by  one  of  the  students, 
and  possessing  myself  of  them,  I  wandered  out  on  the  road 
leading  to  the  parsonage.  I  was  aware  that  Murray  intended 
coming  into  the  town,  and  at  last  I  reeled  into  a  shaded 
spot  near  the  road,  and  waited  for  him.  Oh !  the  mocking 
glory  of  that  cloudless  night !  To  this  day,  I  hate  the  cold 
glitter  of  stars,  and  the  golden  sheen  of  midnight  moons  ? 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  cursed  the  world  and  all  it 
held  ;  cursed  the  contented  cricket  singing  in  the  grass  at 
my  feet ;  cursed  the  blood  in  my  arteries,  that  beat  so  thick 
and  fast,  I  could  not  listen  for  the  footsteps  I  was  waiting 
for.  At  last  I  heard  him  whistling  a  favorite  tune,  which 
all  our  lives  we  had  whistled  together,  as  we  hunted 
through  the  woods  around  Le  Bocage ;  and,  as  the  familiar 
sound  of  'The  Braes  of  Balquither'  drew  nearer  and 
nearer,  I  sprang  up  with  a  cry  that  must  have  rung  on  the 
night  air  like  the  yell  of  some  beast  of  prey.  Of  all  that 
passed,  I  only  know  that  I  cursed  and  insulted  and  mad- 
dened him  till  he  accepted  the  pistol,  which  I  thrust  into 
his  hand.  We  moved  ten  paces  apart — and  a  couple  of 
students  who  happened,,  accidentally,  to  pass  along  the  road 
and  heard  our  altercation,  stopped  at  our  request,  gave 
the  word  of  command,  and  we  fired  simultaneously.  The 
ball  entered  Murray's  heart,  and  he  fell  dead  without  a 
word.  I  was  severely  wounded  in  the  chest,  and  now  I 
wear  the  ball  here  in  my  side.  Ah !  a  precious  in  memo- 
nam  of  murdered  confidence !" 

Until  now  Edna  had  listened  breathlessly,  with  her  eyes 
upon  his  ;  but  here  a  groan  escaped  her,  and  she  shuddered 
violently,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

Mr.  Murray  came  nearer,  stood  close  to  her,  and  hurried 
on. 

"  My  last  memory  of  my  old  idol  is  as  he  lay  with  his 
handsome,  treacherous  face  turned  up  to  the  moon ;  and  the 


3M  ST.  ELMO. 

hair  which  Agnes  had  been  fingering,  dabbled  with  dew 
and  the  blood  that  oozed  down  from  his  side.  When  1 
recovered  my  consciousness,  Murray  Hainmoni  had  been 
three  weeks  in  his  grave.  As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  travel, 
my  mother  took  me  to  Europe,  and  for  five  years  we  lived 
in  Paris,  Naples,  or  wandered  to  and  fro.  Then  she  came 
home,  and  I  plunged  into  the  heart  of  Asia.  After  two 
years  I  returned  to  Paris,  and  gave  myself  tip  to  every 
species  of  dissipation.  I  drank,  gambled,  and  my  midnight 
carousals  would  sicken  your  soul,  were  I  to  paint  all  their 
hideousness.  You  have  read  in  the  Scriptures  of  persons  pos- 
sessed of  devils  ?  A  savage,  mocking,  tearing  devil  held  me 
in  bondage.  I  sold  myself  to  my  Mephistopheles,  on  condi- 
tion that  my  revenge  might  be  complete.  I  hated  the  whole 
world  with  an  intolerable,  murderous  hate ;  and  to  mock 
and  make  my  race  suffer  was  the  only  real  pleasure  I  found. 
The  very  name,  the  bare  mention  of  religion  maddened 
me.  A  minister's  daughter,  a  minister's  son,  a  minister 
hhnself,  had  withered  my  young  life,  and  I  blasphemously 
derided  all  holy  things.  O  Edna !  my  darling  !  it  is  im- 
possible to  paint  all  the  awful  wretchedness  of  that  period, 
when  I  walked  in  the  world  seeking  victims  and  finding 

many.     Verily, 

'  There's  not  a  crime 
But  takes  its  proper  change  out  still  in  crime, 
If  once  rung  on  the  counter  of  this  world, 
Let  sinners  look  to  it.' 

Ah!  upon  how  many  lovely  women  have  I  visited  Agnes' s 
sin  of  hypocrisy  !  Into  how  many  ears  have  I  poured 
tender  words,  until  fair  hands  were  as  good  as  offered  to 
me,  and  I  turned  their  love  to  mockery  !  I  hated  and  de- 
spised all  womanhood  ;  and  even  in  Paris  I  became  cele- 
brated as  a  heartless  trifler  with  the  affections  I  won  and 
trampled  under  my  feet.  Whenever  a  brilliant  and  beau- 
tiful woman  crossed  my  path,  I  attached  myself  to  her 
train  of  admirers,  until  I  made  her  acknowledge  my  power 


ST.  ELMO.  315 

and  give  public  and  unmistakable  manifestation  of  her  pre- 
ference for  me ;  then  I  left  her — a  target  for  the  laughter 
of  her  circle.  It  was  not  vanity  ;  oh  !  no,  no  !  That 
springs  from  self-love,  and  I  had  none.  It  was  hate  of  every 
thing  human,  especially  of  every  thing  feminine.  One  of 
the  fairest  faces  that  ever  brightened  the  haunts  of  fashion 
— a  queenly,  elegant  girl — the  pet  of  her  family  and  of 
society,  now  wears  serge  garments  and  a  black  veil,  and  is 
immured  in  an  Italian  convent,  because  I  entirely  won  her 
heart ;  and  when  she  waited  for  me  to  declare  my  affection 
and  ask  her  to  become  my  wife,  I  quitted  her  side  for  that 
of  another  belle,  and  never  visited  her  again.  On  the  day 
when  she  bade  adieu  to  the  world,  I  was  among  the  spec- 
tators ;  and  as  her  mournful  but  lovely  eyes  sought  mine, 
I  laughed,  and  gloried  in  the  desolation  I  had  wrought. 
Sick  of  Europe,  I  came  home.  .  .  . 

'  And  to  a  part  I  come  where  no  light  shines.' 

My  tempting  fiend  pointed  to  one  whose  suffering  would 
atone  for  much  of  my  misery.  Edna,  I  withhold  nothing  : 
there  is  much  I  might  conceal,  but  I  scorn  to  do  so.  During 
one  terribly  fatal  winter,  scarlet-fever  had  deprived  Mr. 
Hammond  of  four  children,  leaving  him  an  only  daughter- 
Annie — the  image  of  her  brother  Murray.  Her  health  was 
feeble  ;  consumption  was  stretching  its  skeleton  hands 
toward  her,  and  her  father  watched  her  as  a  gardener  tends 
his  pet — choice — delicate  exotic.  She  was  about  sixteen,  very 
pretty,  very  attractive.  •  After  Murray's  death,  I  never 
spoke  to  Mr.  Hammond,  never  crossed  his  path  ;  but  I  met 
his  daughter  without  his  knowledge,  and  finally  I  made 
her  confess  her  love  for  me.  I  offered  her  my  hand  ;  she  ac- 
cepted it.  A  day  was  app  Dinted  for  an  elopement  and 
marriage  ;  the  hour  came :  she  left  the  parsonage,  but  I  did 
not  meet  her  here  on  the  steps  of  this  church  as  I  had  pro- 
raised,  and  she  received  a  note,  full  of  scorn  and  derision,. 
explaining  the  revengeful  motives  that  had  actuated  me> 


S16  ST.  ELMO. 

Two  hours  later,  her  father  found  her  insensible  on  the 
steps,  and  the  marble  was  dripping  with  a  hemorrhage  of 
blood  from  her  lungs.  The  dark  stain  is  still  there ;  you 
must  have  noticed  it.  I  never  saw  her  again.  She  kept 
her  room  from  that  day,  and  died  three  months  after. 
When  on  her  death-bed  she  sent  for  me,  but  I  refused  to 
obey  the  summons.  As  I  stand  here,  I  see  through  the 
window  the  gray,  granite  vault  OArergrown  with  ivy,  and 
the  marble  slab  where  sleep  in  untimely  death  Murray  and 
Annie  Hammond,  the  victims  of  my  insatiable  revenge.  Do 
you  wonder  that  I  doubted  you  when  you  said  that  afflicted 
father,  Allan  Hammond,  had  never  uttered  one  unkind  word 
about  me  ?" 

Mr.  Murray  pointed  to  a  quiet  corner  of  the  church-yard, 
but  Edna  did  not  lift  her  face,  and  he  heard  the  half- 
smothered,  shuddering  moan  that  struggled  up  as  she  list- 
ened to  him. 

He  put  his  hand  on  hers,  but  she  shivered  and  shrunk 
away  from  him. 

"  Years  passed.  I  grew  more  and  more  savage  ;  the  very 
power  of  loving  seemed  to  have  died  out  in  my  nature. 
My  mother  endeavored  to  drag  me  into  society,  but  I  was 
surfeited,  sick  of  the  world — sick  of  my  own  excesses  ;  and 
gradually  I  became  a  recluse,  a  surly  misanthrope.  How 
often  have  I  laughed  bitterly  over  those  words  of  Mill's  : 
'  Yet,  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  improvement  in 
human  affairs  is  wholly  the  work  of  the  uncontented  charac- 
ters !'  My  indescribable,  my  tormenting  discontent,  daily 
belied  his  aphorism.  My  mother  is  a  woman  of  stern  in- 
tegrity of  character,  and  sincerity  of  purpose ;  but  she  is 
worldly  and  ambitious  and  inordinately  proud,  and  for  her 
religion  I  had  lost  all  respect.  Again  I  went  abroad,  solely 
to  kill  time;  was  absent  two  years  and  came  back.  I 
had  ransacked  the  world,  and  was  disgusted,  hopeless, 
prematurely  old.  A  week  after  my  return  I  was  attacked 
by  a  very  malignant  fever,  and  my  life  was  despaired  of, 


ST.  ELMO.  3L7 

bat  I  exulted  in  the  thought  that  at  last  I  should  fin  1  obli 
vion.  I  refused  all  remedies  and  set  at  defiance  all  medical 
advice,  hoping  to  hasten  the  end ;  but  death  cheated  me.  I 
rose  from  my  bed  of  sickness,  cursing  the  mockery,  realizing 
that  indeed : 

The  good  die  first, 

And  they  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer  dust 
Burn  to  the  socket/ 

Some  months  after  my  recovery,  while  I  was  out  on  a 
camp-hunt,  you  were  brought  to  Le  Bocage,  and  the  sight 
of  you  made  me  more  vindictive  than  ever.  I  believed  you 
selfishly  designing,  and  I  could  not  bear  that  you  should 
remain  under  the  same  roof  with  me.  I  hated  children  as  I 
hated  men  and  women.  But  that  day  when  you  defied  me 
in  the  park,  and  told  me  I  was  sinful  and  cruel,  I  began  to 
notice  you  closely.  I  weighed  your  words,  watched  you 
when  you  little  dreamed  that  I  was  present,  and  often  con- 
cealed myself  in  order  to  listen  to  your  conversation.  I 
saw  in  your  character  traits  that  annoyed  me,  because  they 
were  noble,  and  unlike  what  I  had  believed  all  womanhood 
or  girlhood  to  be.  I  was  aware  that  you  dreaded  and  dis- 
liked me ;  I  saw  that  very  clearly,  every  time  I  had  occasion 
to  speak  to  you.  How  it  all  came  to  pass  I  can  not  tell — I 
know  not — and  it  has  always  been  a  mystery  even  to  me  ; 
but  Edna,  after  the  long  lapse  of  years  of  sin  and  reckless 
dissipation,  my  heart  stirred  and  turned  to  you,  child 
though  you  were,  and  a  strange,  strange,  invincible  love  for 
you  sprang  from  the  bitter  ashes  of  a  dead  affection  for 
Agnes  Hunt.  I  wondered  at  myself;  I  sneered  at  my 
idiotcy ;  I  cursed  my  mad  folly,  and  tried  to  believe  you  as 
unprincipled  as  I  had  found  others  ;  but  the  singular  fasci- 
nation strengthened  day  by  day.  Finally  I  determined  to 
tempt  you,  hoping  that  your  duplicity  and  deceit  would 
wake  me  from  the  second  dream  into  which  I  feared  there 
was  danger  of  my  falling.  Thinking  that  at  your  age  curi- 
osity was  the  strongest  emotion,  I  carefully  arranged  the 


318  ST.  ELMO. 

interior  of  the  Taj  Mahal,  so  that  it  would  be  impossible  foi 
you  to  open  it  without  being  discovered  ;  and  putting  the 
key  in  your  hands,  I  went  abroad.  I  wanted  to  satisfy  my- 
self that  you  were  unworthy,  and  believed  you  would  betray 
the  trust.  For  four  years  I  wandered,  restless,  impatient, 
scorning  myself  more  and  more  because  I  could  not  forget 
your  sweet,  pure,  haunting  face;  because,  despite  my  jeers, 
I  knew  that  I  loved  you.  At  last  I  wrote  to  my  mother 
from  Egypt  that  I  would  go  to  Central  Persia,  and  so  I  in- 
tended. But  one  night  as  I  sat  alone,  smoking  amid  the 
ruins  of  the  propylon  at  Philse,  a  vision  of  Le  Bocage  rose 
before  me,  and  your  dear  face  looked  at  me  from  the  lotus- 
crowned  columns  of  the  ancient  temple.  I  forgot  the 
hate  I  bore  all  mankind ;  I  forgot  every  thing  but  you ; 
your  pure,  calm,  magnificent  eyes ;  and  the  longing  to  see 
you,  my  darling — the  yearning  to  look  into  your  eyes  once 
more,  took  possession  of  me.  I  sat  there  till  the  great, 
golden,  dewless  dawn  of  the  desert  fell  upon  Egypt,  and 
then  came  a  struggle  long  and  desperate.  I  laughed  and 
swore  at  my  folly  ;  but  far  down  in  the  abysses  of  my  dis- 
torted nature  hope  had  kindled  a  little  feeble,  flickering  ray. 
I  tried  to  smother  it,  but  its  flame  clung  tto  some  crevice  in 
my  heart,  and  would  not  be  crushed.  While  I  debated,  a 
pigeon  that  dwelt  somewhere  in  the  crumbling  temple  flut- 
tered down  at  my  feet,  cooed  softly,  looked  in  my  face,  then 
perched  on  a  mutilated,  red  granite  sphinx  immediately  in 
front  of  me,  and  after  a  moment  rose,  circled  above  me  in  the 
pure,  rainless  air  and  flew  westward.  I  accepted  it  as  an 
omen,  and  started  to  America  instead  of  to  Persia.  On  the 
night  of  the  tenth  of  December,  four  years  after  I  bade  you 
good-by  at  the  park  gate,  I  was  again  at  Le  Bocage. — 
Silently  and  undiscovered  I  stole  into  my  own  house,  and 
secreted  myself  behind  the  curtains  in  the  library.  I  had 
been  there  one  hour  when  you  and  Gordon  Leigh  came  in 
to  examine  the  Targum.  O  Edna  !  how  little  you  dreamed 
of  the  eager,  hungry  eyes  that  watched  you  !     During  that 


ST.  ELMO.  319 

hour  that  you  two  sat  there  bencUr.g  over  the  same  look,  I 
became  thoroughly  convinced  that  while  I  loved  you  as  I 
never  expected  to  love  any  one,  Gordon  loved  you  also,  and 
intended  if  possible  to  make  you  his  wife.  I  contrasted  my 
worn,  haggard  face  and  grayish  locks  with  his,  so  full  of 
manly  hope  and  youthful  beauty,  and  I  could  not  doubt 
that  any  girl  would  prefer  him  to  me.  Edna,  my  retribution 
began  then.  I  felt  that  my  devil  was  mocking  me,  as  I  had 
long  mocked  others,  and  made  me  love  you  when  it  was 
impossible  to  win  you.  Then  and  there  I  was  tempted  to 
spring  upon  and  throttle  you  both  before  he  triumphantly 
called  you  his.  At  last  Leigh  left,  and  I  escaped  to  my 
own  rooms.  I  was  pacing  the  floor  when  I  heard  you  cross 
the  rotunda,  and  saw  the  glimmer  of  the  light  you  carried. 
Hoping  to  see  you  open  the  little  Taj,  I  crawled  behind  the 
sarcophagus  that  holds  my  two  mummies,  crouched  close  to 
the  floor,  and  peeped  at  you  across  the  gilded  byssus  that 
covered  them.  My  eyes,  I  have  often  been  told,  possess 
magnetic  or  mesmeric  power.  At  all  evrents,  you  felt  my 
eager  gaze,  you  were  restless,  and  searched  the  room  to 
discover  whence  that  feeling  of  a  human  presence  came. 
Darling,  were  you  superstitious,  that  you  avoided  looking 
into  the  dark  corner  where  the  mummies  lay?  Presently 
you  stopped  in  front  of  the  little  tomb,  and  swept  away  the 
spider-web,  and  took  the  key  from  your  pocket,  and  as  you 
put  it  into  the  lock  I  almost  shouted  aloud  in  my  savage 
triumph  !  I  absolutely  panted  to  find  Leigh's  future  wife 
as  unworthy  of  confidence  as  I  believed  the  remainder  of 
her  sex.  But  you  did  not  open  it.  You  merely  drove 
away  the  spider  and  rubbed  the  marble  clean  with  your 
handkerchief,  and  held  the  key  between  your  fingers.  Then 
my  heart  seemed  to  stand  still,  as  I  watched  the  light 
streaming  over  your  beautiful,  holy  face  and  warm  crimson 
dress ;  and  when  you  put  the  key  in  your  pocket  and  turned 
away,  my  groan  almost  betrayed  me.  I  had  taken  out  my 
thatch  to  see  the  hour,  and  in  my  suspense  I  clutched  it  so 


320  &T-  ELMO. 

tightly  that  the  gold  case  and  the  crystal  within  a,l  crushed 
in  my  hand.  You  heard  the  tingling  sound  and  wondered 
whence  it  came ;  and  when  you  had  locked  the  door  and 
gone,  I  raised  one  of  the  windows  and  swung  myself  down 
to  the  terrace.     Do  you  remember  that  night  ?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Murray." 

Her  voice  was  tremulous  and  almost  inaudible. 

"  I  had  business  in  Tennessee,  no  matter  now,  what,  or 
where,  and  I  went  on  that  night.  After  a  week  I  returned, 
that  afternoon  when  I  found  you  reading  in  my  sitting-room. 
Still  I  was  sceptical,  and  not  until  I  opened  the  tomb,  was 
I  convinced  that  you  had  not  betrayed  the  trust  which  you 
supposed  I  placed  in  you.  Then  as  you  stood  beside  me,  in 
all  your  noble  purity  and  touching  girlish  beauty — as  you 
looked  up  half  reproachfully,  half  defiantly  at  me — it  cost 
me  a  terrible  effort  to  master  myself — to  abstain  from  clasp- 
ing you  to  my  heart,  and  telling  you  all  that  you  were  to 
me.  Oh !  how  I  longed  to  take  you  in  my  arms,  and  feed 
my  poor  famished  heart  with  one  touch  of  your  bps !  I 
dared  not  look  at  you,  lest  I  should  lose  my  self-control. 
The  belief  that  Gordon  was  a  successful  rival  sealed  my 
lips  on  that  occasion;  and  ah!  the  dreary  wretchedness  of 
the  days  of  suspense  that  followed.  I  was  a  starving  beg- 
gar who  stood  before  what  I  coveted  above  every  thing  else 
on  earth,  and  saw  it  labelled  with  another  man's  name 
and  beyond  my  reach.  The  daily  sight  of  that  emerald  ring 
on  your  finger  maddened  me ;  and  you  can  form  no  ade- 
quate idea  of  the  bitterness  of  feeling  with  which  I  noted 
my  mother's  earnest  efforts  and  manoeuvres  to  secure  for 
Gordon  Leigh — to  sell  to  him — the  little  hand  which  her 
own  son  would  have  given  Worlds  to  claim  in  the  sight  of 
God  and  man !  Continually  I  watched  you  when  you  least 
suspected  me ;  I  strewed  infidel  books  where  I  knew  you 
must  see  them;  I  tempted  you  more  than  you  dreamed  of; 
I  teased  and  tormented  and  wounded  you  whenever  an  op- 
portunity offered ;  for  I  hoped  to  find  some  flaw  in  youi 


ST.  ELMO.  321 

character,  some  defect  in  your  tempei,  some  inconsistency 
between  your  professions  and  your  practice.  I  knew  Leigh 
was  not  your  equal,  and  I  said  bitterly,  '  She  is  poor  and 
unknown,  and  will  surely  marry  him  for  his  money,  for  hia 
position — as  Agnes  would  have  married  me.'  But  you  did 
not !  and  when  I  knew  that  you  had  positively  refused  his 
fortune,  I  felt  that  a  great  dazzling  light  had  broken  sud- 
denly upon  my  darkened  life ;  and,  for  the  first  time,  since  I 
parted  with  Murray  Hammond,  tears  of  joy  filled  my  eyes. 
I  ceased  to  struggle  against  my  love — I  gave  myself  up  to 
it,  and  only  asked,  How  can  I  overcome  her  aversion  to 
me  ?  You  were  the  only  tie  that  linked  me  with  my  race, 
and  for  your  sake  I  almost  felt  as  if  I  could  forget  my  hate. 
But  you  shrank  more  and  more  from  me,  and  my  punish- 
ment overtook  me  when  I  saw  how  you  hated  Clinton  Alls- 
ton's  blood-besmeared  hands,  and  with  what  unfeigned 
horror  you  regarded  his  career.  When  you  declared  so 
vehemently  that  his  fingers  should  never  touch  yours — oh ! 
it  was  the  fearful  apprehension  of  losing  you  that  made  me 
3atch  your  dear  hands  and  press  them  to  my  aching  heart.  1 
was  stretched  upon  a  rack  that  taught  me  the  full  import  of 
Isaac  Taylor's  grim  words,  '  Remorse  is  man's  dread  prero- 
gative ! '  Believing  that  you  knew  all  my  history  and  that 
"our  aversion  was  based  upon  it,  I  was  too  proud  to  show 
•>Ti  my  affection.  Douglass  Manning  was  as  much  my 
mend  as  I  permitted  any  man  to  be ;  we  had  travelled  to- 
gether through  Arabia,  and  with  his  handwriting  I  was 
familiar.  Suspecting  your  literary  schemes,  and  dreading 
a  rival  in  your  ambition,  I  wrote  to  him  on  the  subject,  dis- 
covered all  I  wished  to  ascertain,  and  requested  him,  for  my 
sake  to  reconsider,  and  examine  your  ms.  He  did  so  to 
oblige  me,  and  I  insisted  that  he  should  treat  your  letters 
and  your  ms.  with  such  severity  as  to  utterly  crush  your 
literary  aspirations.  O  child !  do  you  see  how  entirely 
you  fill  my  mind  and  heart?  How  I  scrutinize  your  words 
and  actions  ?     O  my  darling — — " 


§22  ST.  ELMO. 

He  patsed  and  leaned  over  her,  putting  his  hand  on  her 
head,  but  she  shook  off  his  touch  and  exclaimed : 

"  But  Gertrude  !     Gertrude !  " 

"  Be  patient,  and  you  shall  know  all ;  for  as  God  re.gns 
above  us,  there  is  no  recess  of  my  heart  into  which  you 
shall  not  look.  It  is,  perhaps,  needless  to  tell  you  that 
Estelle  came  here  to  marry  me  for  my  fortune.  It  is  not 
agreeable  to  say  such  things  of  one's  own  cousin,  but 
to-day  I  deal  only  in  truths,  and  facts  sustain  me.  She 
professes  to  love  me !  has  absolutely  avowed  it  more  than 
once  in  days  gone  by.  Whether  she  really  loves  any  thing 
but  wealth  and  luxury,  I  have  never  troubled  myself  to 
find  out ;  but  my  mother  fancies  that  if  Estelle  were  my 
wife,  I  might  be  less  cynicaL  Once  or  twice  I  tried  to  be 
affectionate  toward  her,  solely  to  see  what  effect  it  would 
have  upon  you ;  but  I  discovered  that  you  could  not  easily 
be  deceived  in  that  direction — the  mask  was  too  trans- 
parent, and  besides,  the  game  disgusted  me.  I  have  no 
respect  for  Estelle,  but  I  have  a  shadowy  traditional  rev- 
erence for  the  blood  in  her  veins,  which  forbids  my  flirting 
with  her  as  she  deserves.  The  very  devil  himself  brought 
Agnes  here.  She  had  married  a  rich  old  banker  only  a 
few  months  after  Murray's  death,  and 'lived  in  ease  and 
splendor  until  a  short  time  since,  when  her  husband  failed 
and  died,  leaving  her  without  a  cent.  She  knew  how  utterly 
she  had  blasted  my  life,  and  imagined  that  I  had  never 
married  because  I  still  loved  her !  With  unparalleled  ef- 
frontery she  came  here,  and  trusting  to  her  wonderfully  pre- 
served beauty,  threw  herself  and  her  daughter  in  my  way. 
When  I  heard  she  was  at  the  parsonage,  all  the  old  burn- 
ing hate  leaped  up  strong  as  ever.  I  fancied  that  she  was 
the  real  cause  of  your  dislike  to  me,  and  that  night,  when 
the  game  of  billiards  ended,  I  went  to  the  parsonage  for 
the  first  time  since  Murray's  death.  Oh !  the  ghostly 
thronging  memories  that  met  me  at  the  gate,  trooped  after 
me  up  the  walk,  and  hovered  like  vultures  as  I  stood  in  the 


ST.  ELMO.  323 

shadow  of  the  trees,  where  my  idol  and  I  had  chatted  and 
romped  and  shouted  and  whistled  in  the  far  past,  in  the 
sinless  bygone!  Unobserved  I  stood  there,  and  looked 
once  more,  after  the  lapse  of  twenty  years,  on  the  face  that 
had  caused  my  crime  and  ruin.  I  listened  to  her  clear 
laugh,  silvery  as  when  I  heard  it  chiming  with  Murray's 
under  the  apple-tree  on  .the  night  that  branded  me,  and 
drove  me  forth  to  wander  like  Cain ;  and  I  resolved,  if  she 
really  loved  her  daughter,  to  make  her  suffer  for  all  that 
she  had  inflicted  on  me.  The  first  time  I  met  Gertrude  1 
could  have  sworn  my  boyhood's  love  was  restored  to  me ; 
she  is  so  entirely  the  image  of  what  Agnes  was.  To  possess 
themselves  of  my  home  and  property  is  all  that  brought 
them  here ;  and  whether  as  my  wife  or  as  my  mother-in-law 
I  think  Agnes  cares  little.  The  first  she  sees  is  impractica- 
ble, and  now  to  make  me  wed  Gertrude  is  her  aim.  Like 
mother,  like  daughter !  " 

"  Oh  !  no,  no !  visit  not  her  mother's  sins  on  her  innocent 
head !  Gertrude  is  true  and  affectionate,  and  she  loves  you 
dearly." 

Edna  spoke  with  a  great  effort,  and  the  strange  tones  of 
her  own  voice  frightened  her. 

"  Loves  me  ?  Ha,  ha !  just  about  as  tenderly  as  her 
mother  did  before  her !  That  they  do  both  '  dearly  love ' — 
my  heavy  purse,  I  grant  you.  Hear  me  out.  Agnes  threw 
file  girl  constantly  and  adroitly  in  my  way ;  the  demon 
here  in  my  heart  prompted  revenge,  and,  above  all,  I  re- 
solved to  find  out  whether  you  were  indeed  as  utterly 
indifferent  to  me  as  you  seemed.  I  know  that  jealousy 
will  make  a  woman  betray  her  affection  sooner  than  any 
other  cause,  and  I  deliberately  set  myself  to  work  to  make 
you  believe  that  I  loved  that  pretty  cheat  over  yonder  at 
the  parsonage — that  frolicsome  wa^-doll,  who  would  rather 
play  with  a  kitten  than  talk  to  Cicero  ;  who  intercepts  me 
almost  daily,  to  favor  me  with  manifestations  of  devotion, 
and  shows  me  continually  that  I  have  only  to  put  out  my 


324  ST.  ELMO. 

hand  and  take  her  to  rule  over  ray  house,  and  trample  my 
heart  under  her  pretty  feet !  When  you  gave  me  that  note 
of  hers  a  week  ago,  and  looked  so  calmly,  so  coolly  in  my 
face,  I  felt  as  if  all  hope  were  dying  in  my  heart ;  for  I 
could  not  believe  that,  if  you  had  one  atom  of  affection  foi 
me,  you  could  be  so  generous,  so  unselfish,  toward  one 
whom  you  considered  your  rival.  That  night  I  did  not 
close  my  eyes,  and  had  almost  decided  to  revisit  South- 
America  ;  but  next  morning  my  mother  told  me  you  were 
going  to  New- York — that  all  entreaties  had  failed  to  shake 
your  resolution.  Then  once  more  a  hope  cheered  me,  and 
I  believed  that  I  understood  why  you  had  determined  to 
leave  those  whom  I  know  you  love  tenderly — to  quit  the 
home  my  mother  offered  you  and  struggle  among  strangers. 
Yesterday  they  told  me  you  would  leave  on  Monday,  and  I 
went  out  to  seek  you ;  but  you  were  with  Mr.  Hammond, 
as  usual,  and  instead  of  you  I  met — that  curse  of  my  life — ■ 
Agnes  !  Face  to  face,  at  last,  with  my  red-lipped  Lamia  ! 
Oh !  it  was  a  scene  that  made  jubilee  down  in  Pandemonium ! 
She  plead  for  her  child's  happiness — ha,  ha,  ha  ! — implored 
me  most  pathetically  to  love  her  Gertrude  as  well  as  Ger- 
trude loved  me,  and  that  my  happiness  would  make  me 
forget  the  unfortunate  past !  She  would  willingly  give  me 
her  daughter,  for  did  she  not  know  how  deep,  how  lasting, 
how  deathless  was  my  affection?  I  had  Gertrude's  whole 
heart,  and  I   was  too  generous   to  trifle  with  her  tender 

love ! Edna,  darling  !  I  will  not  tell  you  all  she  said— 

you  would  blush  for  your  sisterhood.  But  my  vengeance 
was  complete  when  I  declined  the  honor  she  was  so 
eager  to  force  upon  me,  when  I  overwhelmed  her  with  my 
scorn,  and  told  her  that  there  was  only  one  woman  whom 
I  respected  or  trusted,  only  one  woman  upon  the  broad 
earth  whom  I  loved,  only  one  woman  who  could  ever  be 
my  wife,  and  her  name  was — Edna  Earl !" 

His  voice  died  away,  and  all  was  still  as  the  dead  in  thea 
grassy  graves. 


ST.  ELMO.  325 

The  orphan's  face  was  concealed,  and  after  a  moment  St 
Elmo  Murray  opened  his  arms,  and  said  in  that  low  win- 
ning tone  which  so  many  women  had  found  it  impossible 
to  resist:  "Come  to  me  now,  my  pure,  noble  Edna.  You 
whom  I  love,  as  only  such  a  man  as  I  have  shown  myself  to 
be  can  love." 

"  No,  Mr.  Murray ;  Gertrude  stands  between  us." 

"  Gertrude !  Do  not  make  me  swear  here,  in  your  pres- 
ence— do  not  madden  me  by  repeating  her  name !  I  tell 
you  she  is  a  silly  child,  who  cares  no  more  for  me  than  her 
mother  did  before  her.  Nothing  shall  stand  between  us. 
I  love  you ;  the  God  above  us  is  my  witness  that  I  love 
you  as  I  never  loved  any  human  being,  and  I  will  not — I 
swear  I  will  not  live  without  you !  You  are  mine,  and  all 
the  legions  in  hell  shall  not  part  us !" 

He  stooped,  snatched  her  from  the  chair  as  if  she  had 
been  an  infant,  and  folded  her  in  his  strong  arms. 

"  Mr.  Murray,  I  know  she  loves  you.  My  poor  little 
trusting  friend  !  You  trifled  with  her  warm  heart,  as  yoi- 
hope  to  trifle  with  mine  ;  but  I  know  you  ;  you  have  shown 
me  how  utterly  heartless,  remorseless,  unprincipled  you 
are.  You  had  no  right  to  punish  Gertrude  for  her  mother's 
sins  ;  and  if  you  had  one  spark  of  honor  in  your  nature,  you 
would  marry  her,  and  try  to  atone  for  the  injury  you  have 
already  done." 

"  By  pretending  to  give  her  a  heart  wmich  belongs  en- 
tirely to  you  ?  If  I  wished  to  deceive  you  now,  think  you 
I  would  have  told  all  that  hideous  past,  which  you  can  not 
abhor  one  half  as  much  as  I  do  ?" 

"  Your  heart  is  not  mine !  It  belongs  to  sin,  or  you  could 
not  have  so  maliciously  deceived  poor  Gertrude.  You  love 
nothing  but  your  ignoble  revenge  and  the  gratification  oi 
your  self-love !     You' " 

"  Take  care,  do  not  rouse  me.  Be  reasonable,  little  dar- 
ling. You  doubt  my  love  ?  Well,  I  ought  not  to  wonder 
at  your  scepticism  after  all  you  have  heard.     But  you  can 


826  ST.  ELMO. 

feel  how  my  heart  throbs  against  your  cheek,  and  if  you 
will  look  into  my  eyes,  you  will  be  convinced  that  I  am 
fearfully  in  earnest,  when  I  beg  you  to  be  my  wife  to- 
morrow— to-day — now !  if  you  will  only  let  me  send  for  a 
minister  or  a  magistrate  !     You  are " 

"  You  asked  Anme  to  be  your  wife,  and " 

"  Hush  !  hush !  Look  at  me.  Edna,  raise  your  head  and 
look  at  me." 

She  tried  to  break  away,  and  finding  it  impossible,  press- 
ed both  hands  over  her  face  and  hid  it  against  his  shoulder. 

He  laughed  and  whispered : 

"  My  darlings  I  know  what  that  means.  You  dare  not 
look  up  because  you  can  not  trust  your  own  eyes  !  Because 
you  dread  for  me  to  see  something  there,  which  you  want 
to  hide,  which  you  think  it  your  duty  to  conceal." 

He  felt  a  long  shudder  creep  over  her,  and  she  answered 
resolutely : 

"  Do  you  think,  sir,  that  I  could  love  a  murderer  ?  A 
man  whose  hands  are  red  with  the  blood  of  the  son  of  my 
best  friend  ?" 

"  Look  at  me  then." 

He  raised  her  head,  drew  down  her  hands,  took  then* 
firmly  in  one  of  his,  and  placing  the  other  under  her  chin, 
lifted  the  burning  face  close  to  his  own. 

She  dreaded  the  power  of  his  lustrous,  mesmeric  eyes, 
and  instantly  her  long  silky  lashes  swept  her  flushed  cheeks. 

"  Ah  !  you  dare  not !  You  can  not  look  me  steadily  in 
the  eye  and  say,  '  St.  Elmo,  I  never  have  loved — do  not 
— and  never  can  love  you  !'  You  are  too  truthful ;  your 
lips  can  not  dissemble.  I  know  you  do  not  want  to  love 
me.  Your  reason,  your  conscience  forbid  it ;  you  are 
struggling  to  crush  your  heart.  You  think  it  your  duty  to 
despise  and  hate  me.  But,  my  own  Edna — my  darling ! 
my  darling  !  you  do  love  me !  You  know  you  do  love  me, 
though  you  will  not  confess  it !     My  proud  darling  !" 

He  drew  the  face  tenderly  to  his  own,  and  kissed  tier 


ST.  Mjumo.  327 

qalvcving  lips  repeatedly;  and  at  last  a  moan  of  anguish 
told  how  she  was  wrestling  with  her  heart. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  hide  your  love  from  my  eagei 
eyes  ?  Oh  !  I  know  that  I  am  unworthy  of  you  !  I  fee  it 
more  and  more  every  day,  every  hour.  It  is  because  yon 
seem  so  noble — so  holy — to  my  eyes,  that  I  reverence  wh  ile 
I  love  you.  You  are  so  far  above  all  other  women — so 
glorified  in  your  pure  consistent  piety— that  you  only  have 
the  power  to  make  my  future  life — redeem  the  wretched 
and  sinful  past.  I  tempted,  and  tried  you,  and  when  you 
proved  so  true  and  honest  and  womanly,  you  kindled  a 
faint  beam  of  hope  that,  after  all,  there  might  be  truth  and 
saving,  purifying  power  in  religion.  Do  you  know  that 
since  this  church  was  finished  I  have  never  entered  it  until 
a  month  ago,  when  I  followed  you  here,  and  crouched 
down-stairs — yonder  behind  one  of  the  pillars,  and  heard 
your  sacred  songs,  your  hymns  so  full  of  grandeur,  so  ft:1' 
of  pathos,  that  I  could  not  keep  back  my  tears  while  I  lis- 
tened ?  Since  then  I  have  come  every  Satui'day  afternoon, 
and  during  the  hour  spent  here  my  unholy  nature  was 
touched  and  softened  as  no  sermon  ever  touched  it.  Oh  '. 
you  wield  a  power  over  me — over  all  my  future !  which 
ought  to  make  you  tremble !  The  first  generous  impulse 
that  has  stirred  my  callous  bitter  soul  since  I  was  a  boy, 
I  owe  to  you.  I  went  first  to  see  poor  Reed,  in  order  to 
discover  what  took  you  so  often  to  that  cheerless  place  ; 
and  my  interest  in  little  Huldah  arose  from  the  fact  that 
you  loved  the  child.  O  my  darling  !  I  know  I  have  been 
sinful  and  cruel  and  blasphemous  ;  but  it  is  not  too  late  for 
me  to  atone  !  It  is  not  too  late  for  me  to  do  some  good  in 
the  world;  and  if  you  will  only  love  me,  and  trust  me, 
and  help  me " 

His  voice  faltered,  his  tears  fell  upon  her  forehead,  and 
stooping  he  kissed  her  lips  softly,  reverently,  as  if  he  real- 
ized the  presence  of  something  sacred. 

"  My  precious  Edna,  no   oath   shall   ever   soil    my  lips 


328  ST.  ELMO. 

again  ;  the  touch  of  yours  has  purified  them.  I  have  heen 
mad — I  think,  for  many,  rLi.*ny  years,  and  I  loathe  my  past 
life ;  but  remember  how  so-  •■  T  was  tried,  and  be  mercifu 
when  you  judge  me.  With  your  dear  little  hand  in  mine, 
to  lead  me,  I  will  make  amends  for  the  ruin  and  suffering 
I  have  wrought,  and  my  Edna — my  own  wife  shall  save 
me!" 

Before  the  orphan's  mental  vision  rose  the  picture  of 
Gertrude,  the  trembling  coral  mouth,  the  childish  wistful 
eyes,  the  lovely  head  nestled  down  so  often  and  so  loving- 
ly on  her  shoulder ;  and  she  saw  too  the  bent  figure  and 
white  locks  of  her  beloved  pastor,  as  he  sat  in  his  old  age, 
in  his  childless  desolate  home,  facing  the  graves  of  his  mur- 
dered children. 

"  O  Mr.  Murray !  You  can  not  atone !  You  can  not 
call  your  victims  from  their  tombs.  You  can  not  undo 
what  you  have  done.!  What  amends  can  you  make  to  Mr. 
Hammond,  and  to  my  poor  litti. j  confiding  Gertrude?  I 
can  not  help  you  !     I  can  not  save  you  !" 

"  Hush  !  You  can,  you  shall !  Do  you  think  I  will  ever 
give  you  up  ?  Have  mercy  on  my  lonely  life  !  my  wretch- 
ed darkened  soul.  Lean  your  dear  head  here  on  my  heart,  and 
say,  '  St.  Elmo,  what  a  wife  can  do'  to  save  her  erring, 
sinful  husband,  I  will  do  for  you.'  If  I  am  ever  to  be 
Baved,  you,  you  only  can  effect  my  redemption ;  for  I  trust, 
I  reverence  you.  Edna  as  you  value  my  soul,  my  eternal 
welfare,  give  yourself  to  me  !  Give  your  pure  sinless  life 
to  purify  mine." 

With  a  sudden  bound  she  sprang  from  his  embrace,  and 
lifted  her  arms  toward  the  Christ,  who  seemed  to  shudder 
as  the  flickering  light  of  fading  day  fell  through  waving 
foliage  upon  it. 

"Look  yonder  to  Jesus,  weeping,  bleeding!  Only  his 
blood  and  tears  can  wash  away  your  guilt.  Mr.  Murray,  I 
can  never  be  your  wife.  I  have  no  confidence  in  you, 
Knowing  how  systematically  you  have  deceived  others, 


ST.  ELMO.  329 

how  devoid  of  conscientious  scruples  you  are  I  should 
never  be  sure  that  I  too  was  not  the  victim  of  your  heart- 
less machinations.     Beside,  I " 

"  Hush !  hush !  To  your  keeping  I  commit  my  con- 
science and  my  heart." 

"No!  no!  lam  no  vicegerent  of  an  outraged  and  in- 
sulted God !  I  put  no  faith  in  any  man,  whose  consc;ence 
another  keeps.  From  the  species  of  fascination  v-hu^a  you 
exert,  I  shrink  with  unconquerable  dread  and  aversion,  and 
would  almost  as  soon  entertain  the  thought  of  marrying 
Lucifer  himself.  Oh  !  your  perYerted  nature  shocks,  re- 
pels, astonishes,  grieves  me.  I  can  Thither  respect  nor  trust 
you.  Mr.  Murray,  have  mercy  uf  m  yourself!  Go  yonder 
to  Jesus.     He  only  can  save  ar..'<  purify  you." 

"  Edna,  you  do  not,  you  can  not  intend  to  leave  m?  ? 
Darling " 

He  held  out  his  arms  and  moved  toward  her,  but  she 
sprang  past  him,  down  the  steps  of  the  gallery,  out  of  the 
church,  and  paused  only  at  sight  of  the  dark,  dull  spot  on 
the  white  steps,  where  Annie  Hammond  had  lain  insen- 
sible. 

An  hour  later,  St.  Elmo  Murray  raised  his  face  from  the 
mahogany  railing  where  it  had  rested  since  Edna  left  him, 
and  looked  around  the  noble  pile,  which  his  munificence 
had  erected.  A  full  moon  eyed  him  pityingly  through  the 
stained  glass,  and  the  gleam  of  the  marble  pulpit  was  chill 
and  ghostly ;  and  in  that  weird  light  the  Christ  was 
threatening,  wrathful,  appalling. 

As  St.  Elmo  stood  there  alone,  confronting  the  picture — 
confronting  the  past — memory,  like  the  Witch  of  Endor, 
called  up  visions  of  the  departed  that  were  more  terrible 
than  the  mantled  form  of  Israel's  prophet ;  and  trie  proud, 
hopeless'  man  bowed  his  haughty  head,  with  a  cry  of  an- 
guish that  rose  mournfully  to  the  vaulted  ceiling  of  the 
sanctuary  : 

"  It  went  up  single,  echolees,  '  My  God !  I  am  forsaken  V  " 


CHAPTER  XXin. 


5^g||HE  weather  was  so  inclement  on  the  following 
day  that  no  service  was  held  in  the  church ;  but, 
notwithstanding  the  heavy  rain,  Edna  went  to  the 
parsonage  to  bid  adieu  to  her  pastor  and  teache-. 
When  she  ascended  the  steps  Mr.  Hammond  was  walking 
up  and  down  the  portico,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind 
him,  as  was  his  habit  when  engrossed  by  earnest  thought ; 
and  he  greeted  his  pupil  with  a  degree  of  mournful  tender- 
ness very  soothing  to  her  sad  heart. 

Leading  the  way  to  his  study,  where  Mrs.  Powell  sat 
with  an  open  book  on  her  lap,  he  said  gently : 

"  Agnes,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  leave  us  for  a  while  ? 
This  is  the  last  interview  I  shail  have  with  Edna  for  a  long 
time,  perhaps  forever,  and  tL?re  are  some  things  I  wish  to 
say  to  her  alone.  You  wili  fh>  1  a  better  light  iu  the  din- 
ing-room, where  all  is  quiet." 

As  Mrs.  Powell  withdrew  he  locked  the  door,  and  for 
some  seconds  paced  the  floor;  then  taking  a  seat  on  the 
chintz-covered  lounge  beside  his  pupil,  he  said,  eagerly: 

"  St.  Elmo  was  at  the  church  yesterday  afternoon.  Are 
you  willing  to  tell  me  what  passed  between  you  ?" 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  he  told  me  his  melancholy  history.  I 
know  all  now — know  why  he  shrinks  from  meeting  you, 
whom  he  has  injured  so  cruelly;  know  all  his  guilt  and 
your  desolation." 

The  old  man  bowed  his  white  head  on  his  bosom,  and 


ST.  ELMO.  33] 

there  was  a  painful  silence.     When  he  spoke,  his  voice  waa 
scarcely  audible. 

"  The  punishment  of  Eli  has  fallen  heavily  upon  me,  and 
there  have  been  hours  when  I  thought  that  it  was  greater 
than  I  could  bear — that  it  would  utterly  crush  me  ;  but 
the  bitterness  of  the  curse  has  passsed  away,  and  I  can  say 
truly  of  that  '  meekest  angel  of  God,'  the  Angel  of  Pa- 
tience : 

'  He  walks  with  thee,  that  angel  kind, 

And  gently  whispers,  Be  resigned  : 

Bear  np,  bear  on  :  the  end  shall  tell, 

The  dear  Lord  ordereth  all  things  well  1 ' 

*'  I  tried  to  train  up  my  children  in  the  fear  and  admo- 
nition of  the  Lord ;  but  I  must  have  failed  signally  in  my 
duty,  though  I  have  never  been  able  to  discover  in  what 
respect  I  was  negligent.  One  of  the  sins  of  my  life  was  my 
inordinate  pride  in  my  only  boy — my  gifted,  gifted,  hand- 
some son.  My  love  for  Murray  was  almost  idolatrous ;  and 
when  my  heart  throbbed  with  proudest  hopes  and  aspira- 
tions, my  idol  was  broken  and  laid  low  in  the  dust ;  and, 
like  David  mourning  for  his  rebellious  child  Absalom,  I 
cried  out  in  my  affliction,  'My  son!  my  son !  would  God 
I  had  died  for  thee  !'  Murray  Hammond  was  my  precious 
diadem  of  earthly  glory  ;  and  suddenly  I  found  myself  un- 
crowned, and  sackcloth  and  ashes  were  my  portion." 

"  Why  did  you  never  confide  these  sorrows  to  me  ?  Did 
you  doubt  my  earnest  sympathy  ?" 

"No,  my  child;  but  I  thought  it  best  that  St.  Elmo 
should  lift  the  veil  and  show  you  all  that  he  wished  you  to 
know.  I  felt  assured  that  the  time  would  come  when  he 
considered  it  due  to  himself  to  acquaint  you  with  his  sad 
history ;  and  when  I  saw  him  go  into  the  church  yesterday 
I  knew  that  the  hour  had  arrived.  I  did  not  wish  to  preju- 
dice you  against  him ;  for  I  believed  that  through  your 
agency  the  prayers  of  twenty  vears  would  be  answered, 
and  that  his  wandering,  embittered  heart  would  follow  you 


g32  ST.  ELMO. 

to  that  cross  before  which  he  bowed  in  his  bcyhood.  Edna, 
it  was  through  my  son's  sin  and  duplicity  that  St.  Elmo's 
noble  career  was  blasted,  and  his  most  admirable  character 
perverted;  and  I  have  hoped  and  believed  that  through 
your  influence,  my  beloved  pupil,  he  would  be  redeemed 
from  his  reckless  course.  My  dear  little  Edna,  you  are  very 
lovely  and  winning,  and  I  believed  he  would  love  you  as  he 
never  loved  any  one  else.  Oh  !  I  have  hoped  every  thing 
from  your  influence !  Far,  far  beyond  all  computation  is 
the  good  which  a  pious,  consistent,  Christian  wife  can  ac- 
complish  in  the  heart  of  a  husband  who  truly  loves  her." 

"  O  Mr.  Hammond  !  you  pain  and  astonish  me.  Surely 
you  would  not  be  willing  to  see  me  marry  a  man  who  scoffs 
at  the  very  name  of  religion  ;  who  wilfully  deceives  and 
trifles  with  the  feelings  of  all  who  are  sufficiently  cred- 
ulous to  trust  his  hollow  professions — whose  hands  are  red 
with  the  blood  of  your  children !  What  hope  of  happiness 
or  peace  could  you  indulge  for  me,  in  view  of  such  a  union  ? 
I  should  merit  all  the  wretchedness  that  would  inevitably 
be  my  life-long  portion  if,  knowing  his  crimes,  I  could  con 
sent  to  link  my  future  with  hife." 

"  He  would  not  deceive  you,  my  child  !  If  you  knew  him 
as  well  as  I  do,  if  you  could  realize  all  that  he  was  before 
his  tender,  loving  heart  was  stabbed  by  the  two  whom  he 
almost  adored,  you  would  judge  him  more  leniently, 
Edna,  if  I  whom  he  has  robbed  of  all  that  made  life  beauti- 
ful— if  I,  standing  here  in  my  lonely  old  age,  in  sight  of  the 
graves  of  my  murdered  darlings — if  I  can  forgive  him,  and 
pray  for  him,  and,  as  God  is  my  witness,  love  him !  you 
have  no  right  to  visit  my  injuries  and  my  sorrows  upon 
him !" 

Edna  looked  in  amazement  at  his  troubled  earnest  coun 
tenance,  and  exclaimed. 

"  Oh !  if  he  knew  all  your  noble  charity,  your  unparal- 
leled magnanimity,  surely,  surely,  your  influence  would  be 
his  salvation !   His  stubborn  bitter  heart  would  be  melted. 


ST.  ELMO.  333 

But,  sir,  1  should  have  a  right  to  expect  Annie's  sad  fate  if 
I  could  forget  her  sufferings  and  her  wrongs." 

Mr.  Hammond  rose  and  walked  to  the  window,  and 
after  a  time,  when  he  resumed  his  seat,  his  eyes  were  full 
of  tears,  and  his  wrinkled  face  was  strangely  pallid. 

"My  darling  Annie,  my  sweet  fragile  flower,  my  pre- 
cious little  daughter,  so  like  her  sainted  mother  !  Ah !  it  is 
not  surprising  that  she  could  not  resist  his  fascinations. 
But,  Edna,  he  never  loved  my  pet  lamb.  Do  you  know 
that  you  have  become  almost  as  dear  to  me  as  my  own 
dead  child  ?  She  deceived  me  !  she  was  willing  to  forsake 
her  father  in  his  old  age  ;  but  through  long  years  you  have 
never  once  betrayed  my  perfect  confidence." 

The  old  man  put  his  thin  hand  on  the  orphan's  head  and 
turned  the  countenance  toward  him. 

"My  dear  little  girl,  you  will  not  think  me  impertinently 
curious  when  I  ask  you  a  question,  which  my  sincere  affec- 
tion for  and  interest  in  you  certainly  sanctions  ?  Do  you 
love  St.  Elmo  ?" 

"Mr.  Hammond,  it  is  not  love ;  for  esteem,  respect,  con- 
fidence belong  to  love  :  but  I  can  not  deny  that  he  exerts  a 
very  singular,  a  wicked  fascination  over  me.  I  dread  his  evil 
influence,  I  avoid  his  presence,  and  know  that  he  is  utterly 
unworthy  of  any  woman's  trust ;  and  yet — and  yet — O 
sir !  I  feel  that  I  am  very  weak,  and  I  fear  that  I  am 
unwomanly ;  but  I  can  not  despise,  I  can  not  hate  him  as 
I  ought  to  do  !" 

"Is  not  this  feeling,  on  your  part,  one  of  the  causes  that 
hurries  you  away  to  New  York  ?" 

"  That  is  certainly  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  am  anxious 
to  go  as  early  as  possible.  O  Mr.  Hammond !  much  as  I 
love,  much  as  I  owe  you  and  Mrs.  Murray,  I  sometimes 
wish  that. I  had  never  come  here !  Never  seen  Le  Bocage 
and  the  mocking,  jeering  demon  who  owns  it !" 

"  Try  to  believe  that  somehow  in  the  mysterious  Divine 
sconorny  it  is  all  for  the  best.      In  reviewing  the  appar* 


334  ST.  ELMO. 

eutly  accidental  circumstances  that  placed  you  among  us,  I 
have  thought  that,  because  this  was  your  appointed  field  of 
labor,  God  in  his  wisdom  brought  you  where  he  designed 
you  to  work.  Does  Mrs.  Murray  know  that  her  son  haa 
offered  to  make  you  his  wife  ?" 

"  No !  no  !  I  hope  she  never  will ;  for  it  would  mortify 
her  exceedingly  to  know  that  he  could  be  willing  to  give 
his  proud  name  to  one  of  whose  lineage  she  is  so  ignorant. 
How  did  you  know  it  ?" 

"I  knew  what  his  errand  must  be  when  he  forced  him- 
self to  visit  a  spot  so  fraught  with  painful  memories  as  my 
church.  Edna,  I  shall  not  urge  you ;  but  ponder  well  the 
step  you  are  taking  ;  for  St.  Elmo's  future  will  be  colored 
by  your  decision.  I  have  an  abiding  and  comforting  faith 
that  he  will  yet  lift  himself  out  of  the  abyss  of  sinful  dissi- 
pation and  scofiing  scepticism,  and  your  hand  would  aid  him 
as  none  other  human  can." 

"  Mr.  Hammond  it  seems  incredible  that  you  can  plead 
for  him.  Oh !  do  not  tempt  me  !  Do  not  make  me  believe 
that  I  could  restore  his  purity  of  faith  and  life.  Do  not  tell 
me  that  it  would  be  right  to  give  my  hand  to  a  blasphem- 
ous murderer?  Oh!  my  own  heart  is  weak  enough  already! 
I  know  that  I  am  right  in  my  estimate  of  his  unsciTipulous 
character,  and  I  am  neither  so  vain  nor  so  blind  as  to 
imagine  that  my  feeble  efforts  could  accomplish  for  him, 
what  all  your  noble  magnanimity  and  patient  endeavors 
have  entirely  failed  to  effect.  If  he  can  obstinately  resist 
the  influence  of  your  life,  he  would  laugh  mine  to  scorn. 
It  is  hard  enough  for  me  to  leave  him,  when  I  feel  that 
duty  demands  it.  O  my  dear  Mr.  Hammond  !  do  not  at- 
tempt to  take  from  me  that  only  staff  which  can  carry  me 
firmly  away — do  not  make  my  trial  even  more  severe. 
I  must  not  see  his  face ;  for  I  will  not  be  his  wife.  Instead 
of  weakening  my  resolution  by  holding  out  flattering  hopes 
of  reforming  him,  pray  for  me  !  oh !  pray  for  me  !  that  I 
:nay  be   strengthened  to  flee  from  a  great  temptation  !     I 


ST.  ELMO.  335 

will  marry  no  man  who  is  not  an  earnest,  humble  believer 
in  the  religion  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Rather  than  be- 
come the  wife  of  a  sacrilegious  scofler,  such  as  I  know  Mr. 
Murray  to  be,  I  will,  so  help  me  God !  live  and  work  alone, 
and  go  down  to  my  grave  Edna  Earl  I" 

The  minister  sighed  heavily. 

"  Bear  one  thing  in  mind.  It  has  been  said,  that  in  dis- 
avowing guardianship,  we  sometimes  slaughter  Abel.  You 
can  not  understand  my  interest  in  St.  Elmo  ?  Remember 
that  if  his  wretched  soul  is  lost  at  last,  it  will  be  required 
at  the  hands  of  my  son,  in  that  dread  day — Dies  Irce  !  Dies 
Ilia  ! — when  we  shall  all  stand  at  the  final  judgment !  Do 
you  wonder  that  I  struggle  in  prayer,  and  in  all  possible 
human  endeavor  to  rescue  him  from  ruin ;  so  that  when  I 
am  called  from  earth,  I  can  meet  the  spirit  of  my  only  son 
with  the  blessed  tidings  that  the  soul  he  jeoparded,  and 
well-nigh  wrecked,  has  been  redeemed !  is  safe !  anchored 
once  more  in  the  faith  of  Christ  ?  But  I  will  say  no  more. 
Tour  own  heart  and  conscience  must  guide  you  in  this  mat- 
ter. It  would  pour  a  flood  of  glorious  sunshine  upon  my 
sad  and  anxious  heart,  as  I  go  down  to  my  grave,  if  I  could 
know  that  you,  whose  life  and  character  I  have  in  great  de- 
gree moulded,  were  instrumental  in  saving  one  whom  I 
have  loved  so  long,  so  well,  and  under  such  afflicting  cir- 
cumstances, as  my  poor  St.  Elmo." 

"  To  the  mercy  of  his  Maker,  and  the  intercession  of  his 
Saviour,  I  commit  him. 

'  As  for  me,  I  go  my  own  way,  onward,  upward !'  " 

A  short  silence  ensued,  and  at  last  Edna  rose  to  say  good« 
bye. 

*  Do  you  still  intend  to  leave  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
iiig  ?    I  fear  you  wih  have  bad  weather  for  your  journey." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  shall  certainly  start  to-morrow.  And  now, 
I  must  leave  you.  O  my  best  friend !  how  can  I  tell  you 
good-bye !" 

The  minister  folded  her  in  his  trembling  arms,  and  his 


S36  8T  ELMO. 

silver  locks  mingled  with  her  black  hair,  while  he  solemnly 
blessed  her.  She  sobbed  as  he  pressed  his  lips  to  her  fore 
head,  and  gently  put  her  from  him ;  and  turning,  she  hur- 
ried away,  anxious  to  escape  the  sight  of  Gertrude's  accus- 
ing face;  for  she  supposed  that  Mrs.  Powell  had  repeated 
to  her  daughter  Mr.  Murray's  taunting  words. 

Since  the  previous  evening  she  had  not  spoken  to  St. 
Elmo,  who  did  not  appear  at  breakfast ;  and  when  she  pass- 
ed him  in  the  hall  an  hour  later,  he  was  talking  to  his  moth- 
er, and  took  no  notice  of  her  bow. 

Now  as  the  carriage  approached  the  house,  she  glanced 
n  the  direction  of  his  apartments,  and  saw  him  sitting  at 
the  window,  with  his  elbow  resting  on  the  sill,  and  his 
cheek  on  his  hand. 

She  went  at  once  to  Mrs.  Murray,  and  the  interview  was 
long  and  painful.  The  latter  wept  freely,  and  insisted  that 
if  the  orphan  grew  weary  of  teaching,  (as  she  knew  would 
happen,)  she  should  come  back  immediately  to  Le  Bocage ; 
where  a  home  would  always  be  hers,  and  to  which  a  true 
friend  would  welcome  her. 

At  length,  when  Estelle  Harding  came  in  with  some  let- 
ters, which  she  wished  to  submit  to  her  aunt's  inspection, 
Edna  retreated  to  her  own  quiet  room.  She  went  to  her 
bureau  to  complete  the  packing  of  her  clothes,  and  found 
on  the  marble  slab  a  box  and  note  directed  to  her. 

Mr.  Murray's  handwriting  was  remarkably  elegant,  and 
Edna  broke  the  seal  which  bore  his  motto,  Nemo  me  in*- 
pwie  lacessit. 

"Edna.  I  send  for  your  examination  the  contents  of 
the  little  tomb,  which  you  guarded  so  faithfully.  Read 
the  letters  written  before  I  was  betrayed.  The  locket  at 
tached  to  a  ribbon  was  always  worn  over  my  heart,  and 
the  miniatures  which  it  contains,  are  those  of  Agnes  Hunt 
and  Murray  Hammond.  Read  all  the  record,  and  then 
judge  me,  as  you  hope  to  be  judged.     I  sit  alone,  amid  the 


st  S.LMO.  337 

mouldering,  blackened  ruins  of  my  youth ;  will  you  not  lis- 
ten to  the  prayer  of  my  heart,  and  the  half-smothered  plead- 
ings of  your  own,  and  come  to  me  in  my  desolation,  and  help 
me  to  build  up  a  new  and  noble  life  ?  O  my  darling ! 
you  can  make  me  what  you  will.  While  you  read  and  pon- 
der, I  am  praying  !  Aye,  praying  for  the  first  time  in  twen- 
ty years  !  praying  that  if  God  ever  hears  prayer,  He  will  in- 
fluence your  decision,  and  bring  you  to  me.  Edna,  my  dar 
ling  !  I  wait  for  you. 

"  Your  own  St.  Elmo." 

Ah !  how  her  tortured  heart  writhed  and  bled ;  how  pit- 
eously  it  pleaded  for  him,  and  for  itself  ! 

Edna  opened  the  locket,  and  if  Gertrude  had  stepped  into 
the  golden  frame,  the  likeness  could  not  have  been  more 
startling.  She  looked  at  it  until  her  lips  blanched  and  were 
tightly  compressed,  and  the  memory  of  Gertrude  became 
paramount.  Murray  Hammond's  face  she  "barely  glanced 
at,  and  its  extraordinary  beauty  stared  at  her  like  that  of 
eonie  avenging  angel.  With  a  shudder  she  put  it  away, 
and  turned  to  the  letters  which  St.  Elmo  had  written  to 
Agnes  and  to  Murray,  in  the  early,  happy  days  of  his  en- 
gagement. 

Tender,  beautiful,  loving  letters,  that  breathed  the  most 
devoted  attachment  and  the  purest  piety ;  letters  that  were 
full  of  lofty  aspirations,  and  religious  fervor,  and  generous 
schemes  for  the  assistance  and  enlightenment  of  the  poor 
about  Le  Bocage  ;  and  especially  for  "  my  noble,  matchless 
Murray."  Among  the  papers  were  several  designs  for 
charitable  buildings ;  a  house  of  industry,  an  asylum  foi 
the  blind,  and  a  free  school-house.  In  an  exquisite  ivory 
casket,  containing  a  splendid  set  of  diamonds,  and  the  costly 
betrothal  ring,  bearing  the  initials,  Edna  found  a  sheet  o± 
paper,  around  which  the  blazing  necklace  was  twisted. 
Disengaging  it,  she  saw  that  it  was  a  narration  of  all  that, 
had  stung  him  to  desperation,  on  the  night  of  the  murder. 


338  ST.  ELMO. 

As  she  read  the  burning  taunts,  the  insults  the  ridicule 
heaped  by  the  two  under  the  apple-tree  upon  the  fond,  faith- 
ful, generous,  absent  friend,  she  felt  the  indignant  blood 
gush  into  her  face ;  but  she  read  on  and  on,  and  two  hours 
elapsed  ere  she  finished  the  package.  Then  came  a  trial,  a 
long,  fierce,  agonizing  trial,  such  as  few  women  have  ever 
been  called  upon  to  pass  through ;  such  as  the  world  be- 
lieves no  woman  ever  triumphantly  endured.  Girded  by 
prayer,  the  girl  went  down  resolutely  into  the  flames  of  the 
furnace,  and  the  ordeal  was  terrible  indeed.  But  as  often 
as  Love  showed  her  the  figure  of  Mr.  Murray,  alone  in  his 
dreary  sitting-room,  waiting,  watching  for  her,  she  turned 
and  asked  of  Duty,  the  portrait  of  Gertrude's  sweet,  anx- 
ious, face ;  the  picture  of  dying  Annie ;  the  mournful  coun- 
tenance of  a  nun,  shut  up  by  iron  bars  from  God's  beautiful 
world,  from  the  home  and  the  family  who  had  fondly  cher- 
ished her  in  her  happy  girlhood,  ere  St.  Elmo  trailed  his 
poison  across  her  sunny  path. 

After  another  hour,  the  orphan  went  to  her  desk,  and 
while  she  wrote,  a  pale,  cold  rigidity  settled  upon  her  fea- 
tures, which  told  that  she  was  calmly,  deliberately  shaking 
hands  with  the  expelled,  the  departing  Hagar  of  her  heart's 
hope  and  happiness. 

"  To  the  mercy  of  God,  and  the  love  of  Christ,  and  the 
judgment  of  your  own  conscience,  I  commit  you.  Hence- 
forth we  walk  different  paths,  and  after  to-night,  it  is  my 
wish  that  we  meet  no  more  on  earth.  Mr.  Murray,  I  can 
not  lift  up  your  darkened  soul ;  and  you  would  only  drag 
mine  down.  For  your  final  salvation,  I  shall  never  ceasa 
to  pray,  till  we  stand  face  to  face,  before  the  Bar  of  God. 

"  Edna  Eabl." 

Ringing  for  a  servant,  she  sent  back  the  box,  and  e^en 
his  own  note,  which  she  longed  to  keep,  but  would  not 
trust  herself  to  see  again;  and  dreading  reflection,  and  too 


ST.  ELMO.  339 

miserable  to  sleep,  she  went  to  Mrs.  Murray's  room,  and 
remained  with  her  till  three  o'clock. 

Then  Mr.  Murray's  voice  rang  through  the  house,  calling 
for  the  carriage,  and  as  Edna  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl, 
be  knocked  at  his  mother's  door. 

"  It  is  raining  very  hard,  and  you  must  not  think  of  going 
to  the  depot,  as  you  intended." 

"  But,  my  son,  the  carriage  is  close  and " 

"  I  can  not  permit  you  to  expose  yourself  so  unnecessarily, 
and,  in  short,  I  will  not  take  you,  so  there  is  an  end  of  it. 
Of  course  I  can  stand  the  weather,  and  I  will  ride  over  with 
Edna,  and  put  her  under  the  care  of  some  one  on  the  train. 
As  soon  as  possible  send  her  down  to  the  carriage.  I  will 
order  her  trunks  strapped  on." 

He  was  very  pale  and  stern,  and  his  voice  rang  coldly 
clear  as  he  turned  and  went  down-stairs. 

The  parting  was  very  painful,  and  Mrs.  Murray  followed 
the  orphan  to  the  front-door. 

"  St.  Elmo,  I  wish  you  would  let  me  go.  I  do  not  mind 
the  rain." 

"  Impossible.  Tou  know  I  have  an  unconquerable  horror 
of  scenes,  and  I  do  not  at  all  fancy  witnessing  one  that 
threatens  to  last  until  the  train  leaves.  Go  up-stairs  and 
cry  yourself  to  sleep  in  ten  minutes;  that  will  be  much 
more  sensible.     Come,  Edna,  are  you  ready  ?" 

The  orphan  was  folded  in  a  last  embrace,  and  Mr.  Murray 
held  out  his  hand,  drew  her  from  his  mother's  arms,  and 
taking  his  seat  beside  her  in  the  carriage,  ordered  the  coach- 
man to  drive  on. 

The  night  was  very  dark,  the  wind  sobbed  down  the 
avenue,  and  the  rain  fell  in  such  torrents  that  as  Edna 
leaned  out  for  a  last  look  at  the  stately  mansion,  which  she 
had  learned  to  love  so  well,  she  could  only  discern  the  out- 
line of  the  bronze  monsters  by  the  glimmer  of  the  light 
burning  in  the  hall.  She  shrank  far  back  in  one  corner, 
and  her  lingers  clutched  each  other  convulsively  ;  but  when 


340  ST-  ELMO. 

they  had  passed  through  the  gate  and  entered  the  main 
road  Mr.  Murray's  hand  was  laid  on  hers — the  cold  fingera 
were  unlocked  gently  but  firmly,  and  raised  to  his  lips. 

She  made  an  effort  to  withdraw  them,  but  found  it  useless, 
and  the  trial  which  she  had  fancied  was  at  an  end  seemed 
only  beginning. 

"  Edna  this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  speak  to  you  of 
myself;  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  allude  to  all  that  has 
passed.  Is  it  entirely  useless  for  me  to  ask  you  to  re- 
consider ?  If  you  have  no  pity  for  me,  have  some  mercy  on 
yourself.  You  can  not  know  how  I  dread  the  thought  of 
your  leaving  me,  and  being  roughly  handled  by  a  cold,  sel- 
fish, ruthless  world.  Oh !  it  maddens  me  when  I  think  of 
your  giving  your  precious  life,  which  would  so  glorify  my 
home,  and  gladden  my  desolate  heart,  to  a  public,  who  will 
trample  upon  you  if  possible,  and,  if  it  can  not  entirely  crush 
you,  will  only  value  you  as  you  deserve,  when,  with  ruined 
health  and  withered  hopes,  you  sink  into  the  early  grave 
malice  and  envy  have  dug  for  you.  Already  your  dear  face 
has  grown  pale,  and  your  eyes  have  a  restless,  troubled 
look,  and  shadows  are  gathering  about  your  young,  pure, 
fresh  spirit.  My  darling,  you  are  not  strong  enough  to 
wrestle  with  the  world  ;  you  will  be  trodden  down  by  the 
^masses  in  this  conflict,  upon  which  you  enter  so  eagerly. 
Do  you  not  know  that  '•literati''  means  literally  the  brand- 
ed ?  The  lettered  slave !  Oh  !  if  not  for  my  sake,  at  least 
for  your  own,  reconsider  before  the  hot  irons  sear  your 
brow;  and  hide  it  here,  my  love;  keep  it  white  and  pure 
and  unfurrowed  here,  in  the  arms  that  will  never  weary  of 
sheltering  and  clasping  you  close  and  safe  from  the  burning 
brand  of  fame.  Literati  !  A  bondage  worse  than  Roman 
slavery  !  Help  me  to  make  a  proper  use  of  my  fortune,  and 
you  will  do  more  real  good  to  your  race  than  by  all  you 
can  ever  accomplish  with  your  pen,  no  matter  how  success- 
ful it  may  prove.  If  you  were  selfish  and  heartless  as  other 
women,  adulation  and  celebrity  and  the  praise  of  the  public 


8T.  ELMO.  3^1 

might  satisfy  you.  But  you  are  not,  and  I  tuve  studied 
your  nature  too  thoroughly  to  mistake  the  result  of  your 
ambitious  career.  My  darling,  ambition  is  the  mirage  ol 
the  literary  desert  you  are  anxious  to  traverse ;  it  is  the 
Bahr  Sheitan,  the  Satan's  water,  which  will  ever  recede  and 
mock  your  thirsty,  toil-spent  soul.  Dear  little  pilgrim,  do 
not  scorch  your  feet  and  wear  out  your  life  in  the  hot, 
blinding  sands,  struggling  in  vain  for  the  constantly  fading, 
vanishing  oasis  of  happy  literary  celebrity.  Ah  !  the  Sahara 
of  letters  is  full  of  bleaching  bones  that  tell  where  many  of 
your  sex  as  well  as  of  mine^fell  and  perished  miserably, 
even  before  the  noon  of  life.  ^Ambitious  spirit,  come,  rest  in 
peace  in  the  cool,  quiet,  happy,  palm-grove  that  I  offer  you. 
My  shrinking  violet,  sweeter  than  all  Psestum  boasts !  You 
can  not  cope  successfully  with  the  world  of  selfish  men  and 
frivolous,  heartless  women,  of  whom  you  know  absolutely 
nothing.  To-day  I  found  a  passage  which  you  had  marked 
in  one  of  my  books,  and  it  echoes  ceaselessly  in  my  heart : 

"'  My  future  will  not  copy  fair  my  past." 

I  wrote  that  once ;  and  thinking  at  my  side 
My  ministering  life-angel  justified 
The  word  by  his  appealing  look  upcast 
To  the  white  throne  of  Q-od,  I  turned  at  last, 
And  there  instead  saw  thee,  not  unallied 
To  angels  in  thy  soul !     .     .     Then  I,  long  tried 
By  natural  ills,  received  the  comfort  fast  ; 
While  budding  at  thy  sight,  my  pilgrim's  staff 
Gave  out  green  leaves  with  morning  dews  impearled. 
I  seek  no  copy  now  of  life's  first  half: 
Leave  here  the  pages  with  long  musing  curled, 
And  write  me  new  my  future's  epigraph. 
New  angel  mine — unhoped-for  in  the  world  1' " 

He  had  passed  his  arm  around  her  and  drawn  her  close 
to  his  side,  and  the  pleading  tenderness  of  his  low  voice  was 
indeed  hard  to  resist. 

"  No,  Mr.  Murray,  my  decision  is  unalterable.    If  you  do 
really  love  me,  spare  me,  spare  me,  further  entreaty.     Before 


342  ST.  ELMO. 

we  part  there  are  some  things  I  should  like  to  say,  and  I 
have  little  time  left.     Will  you  hear  me  ?" 

He  did  not  answer,  hut  tightened  his  arm,  drew  her  head 
to  his  hosom,  and  leaned  his  face  down  on  hers. 

"Mr  Murray,  I  want  to  leave  my  Bible  with  you,  he- 
cause  there  are  many  passages  marked  which  would  greatly 
comfort  and  help  you.  It  is  the  most  precious  thing  I  pos- 
sess, for  Grandpa  gave  it  to  me  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  and 
I  could  not  hear  to  leave  it  with  any  one  hut  you.  I  have 
it  here  in  my  hand ;  will  you  look  into  it  sometimes  if  I  give 
it  to  you  ?" 

He  merely  put  out  his  hand  arid  took  it  from  her. 

She  paused  a  few  seconds,  and  as  he  remained  silent,  she 
continued : 

"Mr.  Hammond  is  the  best  friend  you  have  on  earth. 
Yesterday,  having  seen  you  enter  the  church  and  suspect- 
ing what  passed,  he  spoke  to  me  of  you,  and  oh !  he  pleaded 
for  you  as  only  he  could !  He  urged  me  not  to  judge  you 
too  harshly ;  not  to  leave  you,  and  these  were  his  words : 
'  Edna,  if  I,  whom  he  has  robbed  of  all  that  made  life  beau- 
tiful; if  I,  standing  here  alone  in  my  old  age,  in  sight  of 
the  graves  of  my  murdered  darlings,  if  I  can  forgive  him, 
and  pray  for  him,  and,  as  God  is  my  witness,  love  him  !  you 
have  no  right  to  visit  my  injuries  and  my  sorrows  upon 
him  ! '  Mr.  Murray,  he  can  help  you,  and  he  will,  if  you 
will  only  permit  him.  If  you  could  realize  how  deeply  he 
is  interested  in  your  happiness,  you  could  not  fail  to  rever- 
ence that  religion  which  enables  him  to  triumph  over  all 
the  natural  feelings  of  resentment.  Mr.  Murray,  you  have 
declared  again  and  again  that  you  love  me.  Oh !  if  it  be 
true,  meet  me  in  heaven  !  I  know  that  I  am  weak  and  sin- 
ful ;  but  I  am  trying  to  correct  the  faults  of  my  character,  1 
am  striving  to  do  what  I  believe  to  be  my  duty,  and  I  hope 
at  last  to  find  a  home  with  my  God.  O  sir !  I  am  not  so 
entirely  ambitious  as  you  seem  to  consider  me.  Believe 
me: 


ST.  ELMO.  343 

'  Better  tlian  glory's  pomp  will  be 
That  green  and  blessed  spot  to  mo-  - 
A  palm-sbade  in  eternity.' 

Foi  several  years,  ever  since  you  went  abroad,  I  Lave  been 
praying  for  you ;  and  wbile  I  live  I  shall  not  cease  to  do  so. 
Oh !  will  you  not  pray  for  yourself?  Mr.  Murray,  I  believe 
I  shall  not  be  happy  even  in  heaven  if  I  do  not  see  you 
there.  On  earth  we  are  parted — your  crimes  divide  us ;  but 
there  !  there !  Oh !  for  my  sake  make  an  effort  to  redeem 
yourself,  and  meet  me  there  !" 

She  felt  his  strong  frame  tremble,  and  a  heavy  shudder- 
ing sigh  broke  from  his  lips  and  swept  across  her  cheek. 
But  when  he  spoke  his  words  contained  no  hint  of  the  prom- 
ise she  longed  to  receive  : 

"  Edna,  my  shadow  has  fallen  across  your  heart,  and  I 
am  not  afraid  that  you  will  forget  me.  You  will  try  to  do 
so,  you  will  give  me  as  little  thought  as  possible ;  you  will 
struggle  to  crush  your  aching  heart,  and  endeavor  to  be 
famous.  But  amid  your  ovations  the  memory  of  a  lonely 
man,  who  loves  you  infinitely  better  than  all  the  world  for 
which  you  forsook  him,  will  come  like  a  breath  from  the 
sepulchre,  to  wither  your  bays ;  and  my  words,  my  plead- 
ing words,  will  haunt  you,  rising  above  the  paeans  of  your 
public  worshippers.  When  the  laurel  crown  you  covet  now 
shall  become  a  chaplet  of  thorns  piercing  your  temples,  or  a 
band  of  iron  that  makes  your  brow  ache,  you  will  think 
mournfully  of  the  days  gone  by,"  when  I  prayed  for  the  privi- 
lege of  resting  your  weary  head  here  on  my  heart.  You 
can  not  forget  me..  Sinful  and  all  unworthy  as  I  confess  my- 
self, I  am  conqueror,  I  triumph  now,  even  though  you  never 
permit  me  to  look  upon  your  face  again ;  for  I  believe  I  have 
a  place  in  my  darling's  heart  which  no  other  man,  which 
not  the  whole  world  can  usurp  or  fill !  You  are  too  proud 
to  acknowledge  it,  too  truthful  to  deny  it ;  but,  my  pure 
Pearl,  my  heart  feels  it  as  well  as  yours,  and  it  is  a  comfort 
of  which  all  time  can  not  rob  me.     Without  it,  how  could  I 


344  ST.  ELMO. 

face  my  future,  so  desolate,  sombre,  lonely?    Oh  I  indeed 
indeed : 

'  My  retribution  is,  that  to  the  last 

I  have  o'errated,  too,  my  power  to  cope 
With  this  fierce  thought— that  life  must  all  be  passed 

Without  life's  hope.' 

Edna,  the  hour  has  come  when,  in  accordance  with  your' 
own  decree,  we  part.  For  twenty  years  no  woman's  lips, 
except  my  mother's,  have  touched  mine  until  yesterday,  when 
they  pressed  yours.  Perhaps  we  may  never  meet  again  in 
this  world,  and,  ah !  do  not  shrink  away  from  me,  I  want  to 
kiss  you  once  more,  my  darling !  my  darling !  I  shall  wear 
it  on  my  lips  till  death  stiffens  them ;  and  I  am  not  at  all 
afraid  that  any  other  man  will  ever  be  allowed  to  touch 
lips  that  belong  to  me  alone ;  that  I  have  made,  and  here 
seal,  all  my  own  !     Good-bye  " 

He  strained  her  to  him  and  pressed  his  lips  twice  to  hers, 
then  the  carnage  stopped  at  the  railroad  station. 

He  handed  her  out,  found  a  seat  for  her  in  the  cars,  which 
had  just  arrived,  arranged  her  wrappings  comfortably,  and 
went  back  to  attend  to  her  trunks.  She  sat  near  an  open 
window,  and  though  it  rained,  heavily,  he  buttoned  his  coat 
to  the  throat,  and  stood  just  beneath  it,  with  his  eyes  bent 
down.  Twice  she  pronounced  his  name,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  hear  her,  and  Edna  put  her  hand  lightly  on  his 
shoulder  and  said : 

"Do  not  stand  here  in  the  rain.  In  a  few  minutes  we 
shall  start,  and  I  prefer  that  you  should  not  wait.  Please 
go  home  at  once,  Mr.  Murray." 

He  shook  his  head,  but  caught  her  hand  and  leaned  his 
cheek  against  the  soft  little  palm,  passing  it  gently  and 
caressingly  over  his  haggard  face. 

The  engine  whistled ;  Mr.  Murray  pressed  a  long,  warm 
kiss  on  the  hand  he  had  taken,  the  cars  moved  on ;  and  as 
he  lifted  his  hat,  giving  her  one  of  his  imperial,  graceful 


ST.  ELMO.  345 

oows,  Edna  had  a  last  glimpse  of  the  dark,  chiselled,  lepul 
sive  yet  handsome  face  that  had  thrown  its  baleful  image 
dee]»  in  her  young  heart,  and  defied  all  her  efforts  to  expel 
it.  The  wind  howled  around  the  cars,  the  rain  fell  heavily, 
beating  a  dismal  tattoo  on  the  glass,  the  night  was  moarn- 
fully  dreary,  and  the  orphan  sank  back  and  lowered  hei 
veil,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

Henceforth  she  felt  that  in  obedience  to  her  own  decision 
and  fiat' 

"  They  stood  aloof,  the  scars  remaining 

Like  cliffs  that  had  been  rent  asunder ; 

A  dreary  sea  now  flows  between  ; 

But  neither  heat  nor  frost  nor  thunder 

Shall  wholly  do  away,  I  ween, 

The  marks  of  that  which  once  hath  been." 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

As  day  dawned  the  drab  clouds  blanched,  broke  up  in 
marbled  masses,  the  rain  ceased,  the  wind  sang  out  of  the 
west,  heralding  the  coming  blue  and  gold,  and  at  noon  not 
one  pearly  vapor  sail  dotted,  the  sky.  During  the  aftei'- 
noon  Edna  looked  anxiously  for  the  first  glimpse  of  "  Look- 
out," but  a  trifling  accident  detained  the  train  for  several 
hours,  and  it  was  almost  twilight  when  she  saw  it,  a  pur- 
ple spot  staining  the  clear  beryl  horizon ;  spreading  rapid- 
ly, shifting  its  Tyrian  mantle  for  gray  robes ;  and  at  length 
the  rising  moon  silvered  its  rocky  crest,  as  it  towered  in 
silent  majesty  over  the  little  village  nestled  at  its  base. 
The  kind  and  gentlemanly  conductor  on  the  cars  accom- 
panied Edna  to  the  hotel,  and  gave  her  a  parcel  containing 
several  late  papers.  As  she  sat  in  her  small  room,  weary 
and  yet  sleepless,  she  tried  to  divert  her  thoughts  by  read- 
ing the  journals,  and  found  in  three  of  them  notices  of  the 

last  number  of Magazine,  and  especial  mention  of  her 

essay :  "  Keeping  the  Vigil  of  St.  Martin  under  the  Pines  of 
Griitli." 

The  extravagant  laudations  of  this  article  surprised  her, 
and  she  saw  that  while  much  curiosity  was  indulged  con- 
cerning the  authorship,  one  of  the  editors  ventured  to  at- 
tribute it  to  a  celebrated  and  very  able  writer,  whose  ge- 
nius and  erudition  had  lifted  him  to  an  enviable  eminence 
in  the  world  of  American  letters.  The  criticisms  were  ex 
cessively  flattering,  and  the  young  author,  gratified  at  the 
complete  success  that  had  crowned  her  efforts,  cut  out  the 


ST.   ELMO.  ^47 

friendly  notices,  intending  to  inclose  them  in  ^  .tt.ter  to 
Mrs.  Murray. 

Unable  to  sleep,  giving  audience  to  memories  of  her  early 
childhood,  she  passed  the  night  at  her  window,  watching 
the  constellations  go  down  behind  the  dark,  frowning  mass 
of  rock  that  lifted  its  parapets  to  the  midnight  sky,  and  in 
the  morning  light  saw  the  cold,  misty  cowl  drawn  over  the 
venerable  hoary  head. 

The  village  had  changed  so  materially  that  she  could 
scarcely  recognize  any  of  the  old  landmarks,  and  the  peo- 
ple who  kept  the  hotel  could  tell  her  nothing  about  Peter 
Wood,  the  miller.  After  breakfast  she  took  a  box  contain- 
ing some  flowers  packed  in  wet  cotton,  and  walked  out  on 
the  road  leading  in  the  direction  of  the  blacksmith's  shop. 
Very  soon  the  trees  became  familiar,  she  remembered  every 
turn  of  the  road  and  bend  of  the  fences ;  and  at  last  the 
grove  of  oak  and  chestnut  shading  the  knoll  at  the  intersec- 
tion of  the  roads,  met  her  eye.  She  looked  for  the  forge 
and  bellows,  for  the  anvil  and  slack-tub;  but  shop  and  shed 
had  fallen  to  decay,  and  only  a  heap  of  rubbish,  overgrown 
with  rank  weeds  and  vines,  marked  the  spot  where  she  had 
spent  so  many  happy  hours.  The  glowing  yellow  chestnut 
leaves  dripped  down  at  her  feet,  and  the  oaks  tossed  their 
gnarled  arms  as  if  welcoming  the  wanderer  whose  head 
they  had  shaded  in  infancy,  and,  stifling  a  moan,  the  orphan 
hurried  on. 

She  saw  that  the  timber  had  been  cut  down,  and  fences 
inclosed  cultivated  fields  where  forests  had  stood  when  she 
went  away.  At  a  sudden  bend  in  the  narrow,  irregular 
road  when  she  held  her  breath  and  leaned  forward  to  see 
the  old  house  where  she  was  born  and  reared,  a  sharp  cry 
of  pah?  escaped  her.  Not  a  vestige  of  the  homestead  re- 
mained, save  the  rocky  chimney,  standing  in  memoriam  in 
the  centre  of  a  corn-field.  She  leaned  against  the  low  fence, 
and  tears  trickled  down  her  cheeks  as  memory  rebuilt  the 
log-house,  a^d  placed  the  split -bottomed  rocking-chair  on 


8^8  ST.  ELMO. 

the  porch  in  front,  and  filled  it  with  the  figure  of  a  white- 
haired  old  man,  with  his  pipe  in  his  hand  and  his  I  lurred 
eyes  staring  at  the  moon. 

Through  the  brown  corn-stalks  she  could  see  the  gaping 
mouth  of  the  well,  now  partially  filled  with  rubbish ;  and 
the  wreaths  of  scarlet  cypress  which  once  fringed  the  shed 
above  it  and  hung  their  flaming  trumpets  down  tiL  tney 
almost  touched  her  childish  head,  as  she  sang  a4  the  well 
where  she  scoured  the  cedar  piggin,  were  bereft  of  all  sup- 
port and  trailed  helplessly  over  the  ground.  Close  to  the 
fence,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  plough  and  hoe,  a  yellow 
four-o'clock  with  closed  flowers  marked  the  location  of  the 
little  garden ;  and  one  tall  larkspur  leaned  against  the  fence, 
sole  survivor  of  the  blue  pets  that  Edna  had  loved  so  well 
in  the  early  years.  She  put  her  fingers  through  a  crevice, 
broke  the  plumy  spray,  and  as  she  pressed  it  to  her  face, 
she  dropped  her  head  upon  the  rails,  and  gave  herself  up  to 
the  flood  of  painful  yet  inexpressibly  precious  reminiscences. 

How  carefully  she  had  worked  and  weeded  this  little 
plat ;  how  proud  she  once  was  of  her  rosemary  and  pinks, 
her  double  feathery  poppies,  her  sweet-scented  lemon-grass ; 
how  eagerly  she  had  transplanted  wood  violets  and  purple 
phlox:  from  the  forest;  how  often  she  had  sat  on  the  steps 
watching  for  her  grandfather's  return,  and  stringing  those 
four-o'clock  blossoms  into  golden  crowns  for  her  own  young 
head ;  and  how  gayly  she  had  sometimes  swung  them  over 
Brindle's  horns,  when  she  went  out  to  milk  her. 

"  Ah  !  sad  and  strange,  as  in  dark  summer  dawns 
The  earliest  pipe  of  half-awakened  birds 
To  dying  ears,  when  unto  dying  eyes 
The  casement  slowly  grows  a  glimmering  square  ; 
So  sad,  so  strange,  the  days  that  are  no  more." 

With  a  sob  she  turned  away  and  walked  in  the  direction 
of  the  burying-ground ;  for  there,  certainly,  she  would  find 
all  unchanged ;  graves  at  least  were  permanent. 


ST.  ELMO.  349 

The  little  spring  bubbled  as  of  yore,  t.;e  lusli  oiiepers 
made  a  tangled  tapestry  around  it,  and  crimson  and  blue 
convolvulus  swung  their  velvety  dew-beaded  chalices  above 
it,  as  on  that  June  morning  long  ago  when  she  stood  there 
filling  her  bucket,  waiting  for  the  sunrise. 

She  took  off  her  gloves,  knelt  down  beside  the  spring, 
and  dipping  up  the  cold,  sparkling  water  in  her  palms, 
drank  and  wept,  and  drank  again.  She  bathed  her  aching 
eyes,  and  almost  cheated  herself  into  the  belief  that  she 
heard  again  Grip's  fierce  bark  ringing  through  the  woods, 
and  the  slow,  drowsy  tinkle  of  Brinclle's  bell.  Turning 
aside  from  the  beaten  track,  she  entered  the  thick  grove  of 
chestnuts,  and  looked  around  for  the  grave  of  the  Dents ; 
but  the  mound  had  disappeared,  and  though  she  recognized 
the  particular  tree  which  had  formerly  overhung  it,  and 
searched  the  ground  carefully,  she  could  discover  no  trace 
of  the  hillock  where  she  had  so  often  scattered  flowers.  A 
squirrel  leaped  and  frisked  in  the  boughs  above  her,  and 
she  startled  a  rabbit  from  the  thick  grass  and  fallen  yellow 
leaves ;  but  neither  these,  nor  the  twitter  of  gossiping  ori- 
oles, nor  the  harsh  hungry  cry  of  a  blue-bird  told  her  a  syl- 
lable of  all  that  had  transpired  in  her  absence. 

She  conjectured  that  the  bodies  had  probably  been  disin- 
terred by  friends,  and  removed  to  Georgia ;  and  she  hurried 
on  toward  the  hillside,  where  the  neighborhood  graveyard 
was  situated.  The  rude,  unpainted  paling  still  inclosed  it, 
and  rows  of  head-boards  stretched  away  among  grass  and 
weeds ;  but  whose  was  that  shining  marble  shaft,  standing 
n  the  centre  of  a  neatly  arranged  square,  around  which  ran 
a  handsome  iron  railing  ?  On  that  very  spot,  in  years  gone 
by,  had  stood  a  piece  of  pine  board :  "  Sacred  to  the  mem- 
ory of  Aaron  Hunt,  an  honest  blacksmith  and  true  Christ- 
ian." 

Who  had  dared  to  disturb  his  bones,  to  violate  his  1  ast 
resting-place,  and  to  steal  his  grave  for  the  interment  of 
some  wealthy  stranger  ?     A  cry  of  horror  and  astonishment 


850  ST.  ELMO. 

broke  from  the  orphan's  trembling  lips,  and  she  shaded  cer 
eyes  with  her  hand,  and  tried  to  read  the  name  inscribed 
on  the  monument  of  the  sacrilegious  interloper.  But  bitter, 
scalding  tears  of  indignation  blinded  her.  She  dashed  them 
away,  but  they  gathered  and  fell  faster ;  and,  unbolting  tho 
gate,  she  entered  the  inclosure  and  stepped  close  io  the 
marble. 

ERECTED 

IN    HONOR    OF 

AARON     HUNT, 

BY  HIS   DEVOTED   GRANDDAUGHTER. 

These  gilded  words  were  traced  on  the  polished  surface 
of  the  pure  white  obelisk,  and  on  each  corner  of  the  square 
pedestal  or  base  stood  beautifully  carved  vases,  from  which 
drooped  glossy  tendrils  of  ivy. 

As  Edna  looked  in  amazement  at  the  glittering  shaft 
which  rose  twenty-five  feet  in  the  autumn  air  ;  as  she  rubbed 
her  eyes  and  re-read  the  golden  inscription,  and  looked  at 
the  sanded  walks,  and  the  well-trimmed  evergreens,  which 
told  that  careful  hands  kept  the  lot  in  order,  she  sank  down 
at  the  base  of  the  beautiful  monument,  and  laid  her  hot 
cheek  on  the  cold  marble. 

"  0  Grandpa,  Grandpa !  He  is  not  altogether  wicked 
and  callous  as  we  once  thought  him,  or  he  could  never  have 
done  this !  Forgive  your  poor  little  Pearl,  if  she  can  not 
help  loving  one  who,  for  her  sake,  honors  your  dear  name 
and  memory  !  O  Grandpa !  if  I  had  never  gone  away 
from  here  !  If  I  could  have  died  before  I  saw  him  again  ! 
before  this  great  anguish  fell  upon  my  heart !" 

She  knew  now  where  St.  Elmo  Murray  went  that  night, 
after  he  had  watched  her  from  behind  the  sarcojhagus  and 
the  mummies ;  knew  that  only  his  hand  could  have  erectec? 
this  noble  pillar  of  record ;  and  most  fully  did  she  appre- 
ciate the  delicate  feeling  which  made  him  so  proudly  reti 


ST.  ELMO.  S51 

cent  on  this  subject.  He  wished  no  element  of  gratitude 
in  the  love  he  had  endeavored  to  wh\  and  scorned  to  take 
advantage  of  her  devoted  affection  for  her  grandfather,  by 
touching  her  heart  with  a  knowledge  of  the  tribute  paid  to 
his  memory.  Until  this  moment  she  had  sternly  refused  to 
permit  herself  to  believe  all  his  protestations  of  love ;  had 
tried  to  think  that  he  merely  desired  to  make  her  acknow- 
ledge his  power,  and  confess  an  affection  flattering  to  his 
vanity.  But  to-day  she  felt  that  all  he  had  avowed  was 
true ;  that  his  proud,  bitter  heart  was  indeed  entirely  hers ; 
and  this  assurance  filled  her  own  heart  with  a  measureless 
joy,  a  rapture  that  made  her  eyes  sparkle  through  their 
tears  and  brought  a  momentary  glow  to  her  cheeks.  Hour 
after  hour  passed ;  she  took  no  note  of  time,  and  sat  there 
pondering  her  past  life,  thinking  how  the  dusty  heart  deep 
under  the  marble  would  have  throbbed  with  fond  pride, if 
it  could  only  have  known  what  the  world  said  of  her  writ- 
ings. That  she  should  prove  competent  to  teach  the  neigh- 
bors' children,  had  been  Aaron  Hunt's  loftiest  ambition  for 
his  darling ;  and.  now  she  was  deemed  worthy  to  speak  to 
her  race,  through  the  columns  of  a  periodical  that  few  wo- 
men were  considered  able  to  fill. 

She  wondered  if  he  were  not  really  cognizant  of  it  all ; 
if  he  were  not  watching  her  struggles  and  her  triumph ; 
and  she  asked  herself  why  he  was  not  allowed,  in  token  of 
tender  sympathy,  to  drop  one  palm-leaf  on  her  head,  from 
the  fadeless  branch  he  waved  in  heaven? 

"  Oh  !  how  far, 
How  far  and  safe,  God,  dost  thou  keep  thy  saints 
When  once  gone  from  us !     We  may  call  agajnst 
The  lighted  windows  of  thy  fair  June  heaven 
Where  all  the  souls  are  happy  ;  and  not  one, 
Not  even  my  father,  look  from  work  or  play, 
To  ask,  '  Who  is  it  that  cries  after  us, 
Below  there,  in  the  dark  ?  " 

The  shaft  threw  a  long  slanting  shadow  eastward  as  the 


352  ST.   PLAtO. 

orphan  rose,  and,  taking  from  the  box  the  fragrant  exotica 
which  she  had  brought  from  Le  Bocage,  arranged  them  in 
the  damp  soil  of  one  of  the  vases,  and  twined  their  bright- 
hued  petals  among  the  dark  green  ivy  leaves.  One  shining 
wreath  she  broke  and  laid  away  tenderly  in  the  box,  a  hal- 
lowed souvenir  of  the  sacred  spot  where  it  grew ;  and  as 
she  stood  there,  looking  at  a  garland  of  poppy-leaves  chis- 
elled around  the  inscription,  neither  flush  nor  tremor  told 
aught  that  passed  in  her  mind,  and  her  sculptured  features 
were  calm,  as  the  afternoon  sun  showed  how  pale  and  fixed 
her  face  had  grown.  She  climbed  upon  the  broad  base  and 
pressed  her  lips  to  her  grandfather's  name,  and  there  was 
a  mournful  sweetness  in  her.  voice  as  she  said  aloud : 

"  Pray  God  to  pardon  him,  Grandpa !  Pray  Christ  to 
comfort  and  save  his  precious  soul !  O  Grandpa !  pray  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  melt  and  sanctify  his  suffering  heart !" 

It  was  painful  to  quit  the  place.  She  lingered,  and  start- 
ed away,  and  came  back,  and  at  last  knelt  down  and  hid 
her  face,  and  prayed  long  and  silently. 

Then  turning  quickly,  she  closed  the  iron  gate,  and  with- 
out trusting  herself  for  another  look,  walked  away.  She 
passed  the  spring  and  the  homestead  ruins,  and  finally 
found  herself  in  sight  of  the  miller's  house,  which  alone 
seemed  unchanged.  As  she  lifted  the  latch  of  the  gate  and 
entered  the  yard,  it  seemed  but  yesterday  that  she  was 
driven  away  to  the  depot  in  the  miller's  covered  cart. 

"(YM  f"^f>q  glimmered  through  the  doors, 
Old  luotsteps  trod  the  upper  floors, 
Old  voices  called  her  from  without." 

An  ancient  apple-tree,  that  she  well  remembered,  stood 
near  the  house,  and  the  spreading  branches  were  bent 
almost  to  the  earth  with  the  weight  of  red- streaked  apples, 
round  and  ripe.  The  shaggy  black  dog,  that  so  often  frol- 
icked with  Grip  in  the  days  gone  by,  now  lay  on  the  step, 
blinking  at  the  sun  and  the  flies  that  now  and  then  buzzed 


8T.  ELMO.  833 

over  the  golden  balsam,  whose  crims;.n  seed  gloived  i  the 
evening  sunshine. 

Over  the  rocky  well  rose  a  rude  arbor,  where  a  scupper- 
nong  vine  clambered  and  hung  its  rich,  luscious  brown  clus- 
ters ;  and  here,  with  a  pipe  between  her  lips,  and  at  her 
feet  a  basket  full  of  red  pepper-pods,  which  she  was  busily 
engaged  in  stringing,  sat  an  elderly  woman.  She  was  clad 
in  blue  and  yellow  plaid  homespun,  and  wore  a  white  apron 
and  a  snowy  muslin  cap,  whose  crimped  ruffles  pressed 
caressingly  the  grizzled  hair  combed  so  smoothly  over  her 
temples.  Presently  she  laid  her  pipe  down  on  the  top  of 
the  mossy  well,  where  the  dripping  bucket  sat,  and  lifted 
the  scarlet  wreath  of  peppers,  eyed  it  satisfactorily,  and, 
as  she  resumed  her  work,  began  to  hum  "  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

'  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  never  brought  to  mind  ? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  days  o'  lang  syne  1" 

The  countenance  was  so  peaceful  and  earnest  and  honest, 
that,  as  Edna  stood  watching  it,  a  warm  loving  light  came 
into  her  own  beautiful  eyes,  and  she  put  out  both  hands 
unconsciously,  and  stepped  into  the  little  arbor. 

Her  shadow  fell  upon  the  matronly  face,  and  the  woman 
rose  and  courtesied. 

"  Good  evening,  miss.  Will  you  be  seated  ?  There  is 
room  enough  for  two  on  my  bench." 

The  orphan  did  not  speak  for  a  moment,  but  looked  up 
in  the  brown,  wrinkled  face,  and  then,  pushing  back  her 
bonnet  and  veil,  she  said  eagerly : 

"  Mrs.  Wood,  don't  you  know  me  ?" 

The  miller's  wife  looked  curiously  at  her  visitor,  glance 
at  her  dress,  and  shook  her  head. 

"No,  miss;  if  ever  I  set  my  eyes  on  you  before,  it's  more 
than  I  remember,  and  Dorothy  Wood  has  a  powerful  mem- 
ory, they  say,  and  seldom  forgets  faces." 


354  ST-  elmo. 

"  Do  you  remember  Aaron  Hunt,  and  his  daughtei  Hes- 
ter ?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  do  ;  but  you  an't  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other,  I  take  it.  Stop — let  me  see.  Aha !  Tabitha,  Willis, 
you  children,  run  here — quick  !  But,  no — it  can't  be  ! 
You  can't  be  Edna  Earl  ?" 

She  shaded  her  eyes  from  the  glare  of  the  sun  and  stooped 
forward,  and  looked  searchingly  at  the  stranger ;  then  the 
coral  wreath  fell  from  her  fingers,  she  stretched  out  her 
arms,  and  the  large  mouth  trembled  and  twitched. 

"  Are  you — can  you  be — little  Edna  ?  Aaron  Hunt's 
grandchild  ?" 

"  I  am  the  poor  little  Edna  you  took  such  tender  care  of 
in  her  great  afiiiction " 

"Samson  and  the  Philistines!  Little  Edna — so  you  are  ! 
What  was  I  thinking  about,  that  I  didn't  know  you  right 
away?     God  bless  your  pretty  white  faee  !" 

She  caught  the  orphan  in  her  strong  arms  and  kissed  her, 
and  cried  and  laughed  alternately. 

A  young  girl,  apparently  about  Edna's  age,  and  a  tall, 
lank  young  man,  with  yellow  hair  full  of  meal-dust,  came 
out  of  the  house,  and  looked  on  in  stupid  wonder. 

"  Why,  children  !  don't  you  know  little  Edna  that  lived 
at  Aaron  Hunt's — his  granddaughter  ?  This  is  my  Tabitha 
and  my  son  Willis,  that  tends  the  mill  and  takes  care  of 
us,  now  my  poor  Peter — God  rest  his  soul! — is  dead  and 
buried  these  three  years.  Bring  some  seats,  Willis.  Sit 
down  here  by  me,  Edna,  and  take  off  your  bonnet,  child, 
and  let  me  see  you.  Umph  !  umph  !  Who'd  have  thought 
it?  What  a  powerful  handsome  woman  you  have  made,  to 
be  sure  !  to  be  sure  !  Well !  well !  The  very  saints  up  in 
glory  can't  begin  to  tell  what  children  will  turn  out !  Lean 
your  face  this  way.  Why,  you  an't  no  more  like  that  little 
barefooted,  tangle-haired,  rosy-faced  Edna  that  used  to  run 
around  these  woods  in  striped  homespun,  hunting  the  cows, 
than  1,  Dorothy  Elmira  Wood,  am  like  the  Queen  of  Sheba 


ST,  ELMO.  35J 

when  she  went  up  visiting  to  Jerusalem  to  sail  cti  Solomon. 
How  wonderful  pretty  you  are  !  And  how  soft  and  white 
youi  hands  are !  Now  I  look  at  you  good  I  see  you  are 
like  your  mother,  Hester  Earl ;  and  she  was  the  loveliest, 
mild  little  pink  in  the  county.  You  are  taller  than  your 
mother,  and  prouder-looking  ;  but  you  have  got  her  big, 
soft,  shining,  black  eyes  ;  and  your  mouth  is  sweet  and  sor- 
rowful, and  patient  as  hers  always  was,  after  your  father 
fell  off  that  frosty  roof  and  broke  his  neck.  Little  Edna 
come  back  a  fine,  handsome  woman,  looking  like  a  queen  ! 
But,  honey,  you  don't  seem  healthy,  like  my  Tabitha.  See 
what  a  bright  red  she  has  in  her  face.  You  are  too  pale  ; 
you  look  as  if  you  had  just  been  bled.  An't  you  well, 
child  ?" 

Mrs.  Wood  felt  the  girl's  arms  and  shoulders,  and  found 
them  thinner  than  her  standard  of  health  demanded. 

"  I  am  very  well,  thank  you,  but  tired  from  my  journey, 
and  from  walking  all  about  the  old  place." 

"And  like  enough  you've  cried  a  deal.  Your  eyes  are 
heavy.  You  know,  honey,  the  old  house  burnt  down  one 
blustry  night  in  March,  and  so  we  sold  the  place  ;  for  when 
my  old  man  died  we  were  hard-pressed,  we  were,  and  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Simmons,  he  bought  it  and  planted  it 
in  corn.     Edna,  have  you  been  to  your  Grandpa's  grave  ?" 

"  Yes  ma'am,  I  was  there  a  long  time  to-day." 

"  Oh !  an't  it  beautiful !  It  would  be  a  real  comfort  to 
die,  if  folks  knew  such  lovely  gravestones  would  cover  'em. 
I  think  your  Grandpa's  grave  is  the  prettiest  place  I  ever 
saw,  and  I  wonder,  sometimes,  what  Aaron  Hunt  would 
say  if  he  could  rise  out  of  his  coffin  and  see  what  is  over 
him.  Poor  thing !  You  haven't  got  over  it  yet,  I  see.  I 
thought  we  should  have  buried  you,  too,  when  he  died ;  for 
never  did  I  see  a  child  grieve  so." 

"Mrs.  Wood,  who  keeps  the  walks  so  clean,  and  the 
evergreens  so  nicely  cut?" 

"  My  Willis,  to  be  sure.     The  gentleman  that  came  here 


356  -ST.  ELMO. 

and  fixed  every  thing  last  December,  paid  Willis  cue  hun 
dred  dollars  to  attend  to  it,  and  keep  the  weeds  down.  He 
said  he  might  come  back  unexpectedly  almost  any  time, 
and  that  he  did  not  want  to  see  so  much  as  a  blade  of  grass 
in  the  walks  ;  so  you  see  Willis  goes  there  every  Saturday 
and  straightens  up  things.  What  is  his  name,  and  who  is 
he,  any  how  ?  Pie  only  told  us  he  was  a  friend  of  yours, 
and  that  his  mother  had  adopted  you." 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  person  was  he,  Mrs.  Wood  ?" 
"  O  child !  if  he  is  so  good  to  you,  I  ought  not  to  say ; 
but  he  was  a  powerful,  grim-looking  man,  with  fierce  eyes 
and  a  thick  moustache,  and  hair  almost  pepper-and-salt ; 
and  bless  your  soul,  honey  !  his  shoulders  were  as  broad  as 
a  barn-door.  While  he  talked  I  didn't  like  his  countenance, 
it  was  dark  like  a  pirate's,  or  one  of  those  prowling,  cattle- 
thieves  over  in  the  coves.  He  asked  a  power  of  questions 
about  you  and  your  Grandpa,  and  when  I  said  you  had  no 
kin  on  earth,  that  ever  I  heard  of,  he  laughed,  that  is,  he 
showed  his  teeth,  and  said,  '  So  much  the  better!  so  much 
the  better !'     What  is  his  name  ?" 

"  Mr.  Murray,  and  he  has  been  very  kind  to  me." 
"But,  Edna,  I  thought  you  went  to  the  factory  to  work  ? 
Do  tell  me  how  you  fell  into  the  hands  of  such  rich  peo- 
ple?" 

Edna  briefly  acquainted  her  with  what  had  occurred  dur- 
ing her  long  absence,  and  informed  her  of  her  plans  for  the 
future  ;  and  while  she  listened  Mrs.  Wood  lighted  her 
pipe,  and  resting  her  elbow  on  her  knee,  dropped  her  face 
on  her  hands,  and  watched  her  visitor's  countenance. 

Finally  she  nodded  to  her  daughter,  saying  :  "  Do  you 
hear  that,  Bitha  ?  She  can  write  for  the  papers  and  get 
paid  for  it !  And  she  is  smart  enough  to  teac'a  !  Well  ! 
well !  that  makes  me  say  what  I  do  say,  and  I  stick  to  it, 
where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way!  and  where  there's  no 
hearty  will,  all  the  ways  in  ci'eation  won't  take  folks  to  an 
education !    Some  children  can't  be  kicked  and  kept  down ; 


ST.  ELMO.  357 

spite  of  all  the  world  tLey  will  nianagj  to  scuffle  cp  some- 
how ;  and  then  again,  some  can't  be  cuffed  and  coaxed  and 
dragged  up  by  the  ears  !  Here's  Edna,  that  always  had  a 
hankering  after  books,  and  she  has  made  something  of  her- 
self; aud  here's  my  girl,  that  I  wanted  to  get  book-learning, 
and  I  slaved  and  I  saved  to  send  her  to  school,  and  sure 
enough  she  has  got  no  more  use  for  reading,  and  knows  as 
little  as  her  poor  mother,  who  never  had  a  chance  to  learn. 
It  is  no  earthly  use  to  fly  in  the  face  of  blood  and  nature  ! 
'  What  is  bred  in  the  bone,  won't  come  out  in  the  flesh !' 
Some  are  cut  out  for  one  thing,  and  some  for  another  !  Je- 
rusalem artichokes  won't  bear  hops,  and  persimmons  don't 
grow  on  blackjacks  !" 

She  put  her  brawny  brown  hand  on  Edna's  forehead,  and 
smoothed  the  bands  of  hair,  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Mrs.  Wood,  I  should  like  to  see  Brindle  once  more." 

"  Lord  bless  your  soul,  honey !  she  has  been  dead  these 
three  years  !  Why,  you  forget  cows  don't  hang  on  as  long 
as  Methuselah,  and  Brindle  was  no  yearling  when  we  took 
her.  She  mired  down  in  the  swamp,  back  of  the  mill-pond, 
and  before  we  could  find  her,  she  was  dead.  But  her  calt 
is  as  pretty  a  young  thing  as  ever  you  saw  ;  speckled  all 
over,  most  as  thick  as  a  guinea,  and  the  children  call  her 
'  Speckle.'  Willis,  step  out  and  see  if  the  heifer  is  in 
sight.     Edna,  an't  you  going  to  stay  with  me  to-night  ?" 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Wood,  I  should  like  very  much  to  do 
so,  but  have  not  time,  and  must  get  back  to  Chattanooga  be- 
fore the  train  leaves,  for  I  am  obliged  to  go  on  to-night." 

"  Well,  any  how,  lay  off  your  bonnet  and  stay  and  let 
me  give  you  some  supper,  and  then  we  will  all  go  back  with 
you,  that  is,  if  you  an't  too  proud  to  ride  to  town  in  our 
cart  ?  We  have  got  a  new  cart,  but  it  is  only  a  miller's 
cart,  and  may  be  it  won't  suit  your  fine  fashionable  clothes." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  stay,  and  I  only  wish  it  was 
the  same  old  cart  that  took  me  to  the  depot,  more  than  fiva 
years  ago.     Please  give  me  some  water." 


358  9T.  ELMO. 

Mrs.  Wood  rolled  up  her  sleeves,  put  away  her  pretty 
peppers,  and  talking  vigorously  all  the  time,  prepared  some 
refreshments  for  her  guest. 

A  table  was  set  under  the  apple-tree,  a  snowy  cotton 
cloth  spread  over  it,  and  yellow  butter,  tempting  as  Go- 
shen's, and  a  loaf  of  fresh  bread,  and  honey  amber-hued, 
and  buttermilk,  and  cider,  and  stewed  pears,  and  a  dish  of 
ripe  red  apples  crowned  the  board. 

The  air  was  laden  with  the  fragrance  it  stole  in  crossing 
a  hay-field  beyond  the  road,  the  bees  darted  in  and  out  of 
their  hives,  and  a  peacock  spread  his  iridescent  feathers  to 
catch  the  level  yellow  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  and  from  the 
distant  mill-pond  came  the  gabble  of  geese,  as  the  noisy  fleet 
breasted  the  ripples. 

Speckle,  who  had  been  driven  to  the  gate  for  Edna's 
inspection,  stood  close  to  the  paling,  thrusting  her  pearly 
horns  through  the  cracks,  and  watching  the  party  at  the 
table  with  her  large,  liquid,  beautiful,  earnest  eyes  ;  and  afar 
off  Lookout  rose  solemn  and  sombre. 

"  Edna,  you  eat  nothing.  What  ails  you,  child  ?  They 
say  too  much  brain-work  is  not  healthy,  and  I  reckon  you 
study  too  hard.  Better  stay  here  with  me,  honey,  and 
run  around  the  woods  and  get  some  red  in  your  face,  and 
churn  and  spin  and  drink  buttermilk,'  and  get  plump,  and 
go  chestnuting  Avith  my  children.  Goodness  knows  they 
are  strong  enough  and  hearty  enough,  and  too  much  study 
will  never  make  shads  of  them;  for  they  won't  work  their 
brains,  even  to  learn  the  multiplication  table.  See  here, 
Edna,  if  you  will  stay  awhile  with  me,  I  will  give  Speckle 
to  you." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Wood,  I  wish  I  could ;  but  the 
lady  who  engaged  me  to  teach  her  children,  wrote  that  I 
was  very  much  needed ;  and,  consequently,  I  must  hurry  on. 
Speckle  is  a  perfect  little  beauty,  but  I  would  not  be  so 
selfish  as  to  take  her  away  from  you." 

Clouds  began  to  gather  in  the  south-west,  and  as  the 


8T.   ELMO.  859 

covered  cart  was  brought  to  the  gate,  a  distant  mutter  of 
thunder  told  that  a  storm  was  brewing. 

Mrs.  Wood  and  her  two  children  accompanied  the  or- 
phan, and  as  they  drove  through  the  wocds,  myriads  of  fire- 
flies starred  the  gloom.  It  was  dark  when  they  reached 
the  depot,  and  "Willis  brought  the  trunks  from  the  hotel, 
and  found  seats  for  the  party  in  the  cars,  which  were  rapid- 
ly filling  with  passengers.  Presently  the  down-train  from 
Knoxville  came  thundering  in,  and  the  usual  rush  and  bus- 
tle ensued. 

Mrs.  Wood  gave  the  orphan  a  hearty  kiss  and  warm  em- 
brace, and  bidding  her  "  Be  sure  to  write  soon,  and  say 
how  you  are  getting  along !"  the  kind-hearted  woman  left 
the  cars,  wiping  her  eyes  with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 

At  last  the  locomotive  signaled  that  all  was  ready ;  and 
as  the  train  moved  on,  Edna  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  form 
standing  under  a  lamp,  leaning  with  folded  arms  against 
the  post — a  form  strangely  like  Mr.  Murray's.  She  leaned 
out  and  watched  it  till  the  cars  swept  round  a  curve,  and 
lamp  and  figure  and  depot  vanished.  How  could  he  pos- 
sibly be  in  Chattanooga  ?  The  conjecture  was  absurd ;  she 
was  the  victim  of  some  optical  illusion.  With  a  long,  heavi- 
ly-drawn sigh,  she  leaned  against  the  window-frame  and 
looked  at  the  dark  mountain  mass  looming  behind  her ;  and 
after  a  time,  when  the  storm  drew  nearer,  she  saw  it  only 
now  and  then,  as 

"  A  vivid,  vindictive,  and  serpentine  flash 
Gored  the  darkness,  and  shore  it  across  with  a  gash." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


N  one  of  those  brown-stone,  palatial  houses  on 
Fifth  Avenue,  which  render  the  name  of  the 
street  a  synonym  for  almost  royal  luxury  and 
magnificence,  sat  Mrs.  Andrews's  "  new  govern- 
ess," a  week  after  her  arrival  in  New-York.  Her  reception 
though  cold  and  formal,  had  been  punctiliously  courteous ; 
and  a  few  days  sufficed  to  give  the  stranger  an  accurate  in- 
sight into  the  characters  and  customs  of  the  family  with 
whom  she  was  now  domesticated. 

Though  good-natured,  intelligent,  and  charitable,  Mrs. 
Andrews  was  devoted  to  society,  and  gave  to  the  demands 
of  fashion  much  of  the  time  which  had  been  better  expend- 
ed at  home  in  training  her  children,  and  making  her  hearth- 
stone rival  the  attractions  of  the  club  where  Mr.  Andrews 
generally  spent  his  leisure  hours.  She  was  much  younger 
than  her  husband,  was  handsome,  gay,  and  ambitious,  and  the 
polished  hauteur  of  her  bearing  often  reminded  Edna  of  Mrs. 
Murray ;  while  Mr.  Andrews  seemed  immersed  in  business 
during  the  day,  and  was  rarely  at  home  except  at  his  meals 
Felix,  the  eldest  of  the  two  children,  was  a  peevish,  spoil- 
ed, exacting  boy  of  twelve  years  of  age,  endowed  with  a 
remarkably  active  intellect,  but  pitiably  dwarfed  in  body 
and  hopelessly  lame,  in  consequence  of  a  deformed  foot. 
His  sister  Hattie  was  only  eight  years  old,  a  bright,  pretty, 
affectionate  girl,  over  whom  Felix  tyrannized  unmercifully, 
and  who  from  earliest  recollection  had  been  accustomed  to 
yield  both  her  rights  and  privileges  to  the  fretful  invalid. 


8T.  ELMO.  3G^ 

The  room  occupied  by  the  governess  was  wmall  but  beau- 
tifully furnished,  and  as  it  was  situated  in  the  fourth  story, 
the  windows  commanded  a  view  of  the  trees  in  a  neighbor- 
ing parkland  the  waving  outline  of  Long  Island. 

On  the  day  of  her  arrival  Mrs.  Andrews  entered  into  a 
minute  analysis  of  the  characters  of  the  children,  indicated 
the  course  which  she  wished  pursued  toward  them,  and,  im 
pressing  upon  Edna  the  grave  responsibility  of  her  position, 
the  mother  gave  her  children  to  the  stranger's  guardian- 
ship, and  seemed  to  consider  her  maternal  duties  fully  dis- 
charged. 

Edna  soon  ascertained  that  her  predecessors  had  found 
the  path  intolerably  thorny,  and  abandoned  it  in  conse- 
quence of  Felix's  uncontrollable  fits  of  sullenness  and  passion. 
Tutors  and  governesses  had  quickly  alternated,  and  as  the 
cripple  finally  declared  he  would  not  tolerate  the  former, 
his  mother  resolved  to  humor  his  caprice  in  the  choice  of  a 
teacher. 

Fortunately  the  boy  was  exceedingly  fond  of  his  books, 
and  as  the  physicians  forbade  the  constant  use  of  his  eyes, 
the  governess  was  called  on  to  read  aloud  at  least  one  half 
of  the  day.  From  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eight 
at  night  the  whole  care  of  these  children  devolved  on  Edna ; 
who  ate,  talked,  rode  with  them,  accompanied  them  wher- 
ever their  inclination  led,  and  had  not  one  quiet  moment 
from  breakfast  until  her  pupils  went  to  sleep.  Sometimes 
Felix  was  restless  and  wakeful,  and  on  such  occasions  he 
insisted  that  his  governess  should  come  and  read  him  to 
sleep. 

Notwithstanding  the  boy's  imperious  nature,  he  possessed 
solue  redeeming  traits,  and  Edna  soon  beeame  much  attach- 
ed to  him ;  while  his  affection  for  his  new  keeper  astonished 
and  delighted  his  mother. 

For  a  week  after  Edna's  arrival,  inclement  weather  pre- 
vented the  customary  daily  ride  which  contributed  largely 
to  the  happiness  of  the  little  cripple ;  but  one  afternoon  as 


362  ST.  ELMO. 

the  three  sat  in  the  school-room,  Felix  threw  his  Latin  gram 
mar  against  the  wall  and  exclaimed : 

"  I  want  to  see  the  swans  in  Central  Paik,  and  I  mean  to 
go,  even  if  it  does  rain !  Hattie,  ring  for  Patrick  to  bring 
the  coupe  round  to  the  door.  Miss  Earl,  don't  you  want 
to  go  ?" 

"  Yes,  for  there  is  no  longer  any  danger  of  rain,  the  sun 
is  shining  beautifully ;  and  besides,  I  hope  you  will  be  more 
amiable  when  you  get  into  the  open  air." 

She  gave  him  his  hat  and  crutches,  took  his  gray  shawl 
on  her  arm,  and  they  went  down  to  the  neat  carriage  drawn 
by  a  handsome  chestnut  horse,  and  set  apart  for  the  use  of 
the  children. 

As  they  entered  the  park,  Edna  noticed  that  the  boy's  eyes 
brightened,  and  that  he  looked  eagerly  at  every  passing  face. 

"  Now,  Hattie,  you  must  watch  on  your  side,  and  I  will 
keep  a  good  lookout  on  mine.  I  wonder  if  she  will  come 
this  evening  ?" 

"For  whom  are  you  both  looking?"  asked  the  teacher. 

"  Oh  !  for  little  Lila,  Bro'  Felix's  sweetheart !"  laughed 
Hattie,  glancing  at  him  with  a  mischievous  twinkle  in  her 
bright  eyes. 

"  No  such  thing !  Never  had  a  sweetheart  in  my  life ! 
Don't  be  silly,  Hattie !  mind  your  window,  or  I  guess  we 
shan't  see  her." 

"Well,  any  how,  I  heard  Uncle  Grey  tell  mamma  that  he 
kissed  his  sweetheart's  hand  at  the  party,  and  I  saw  Bro 
Felix  kiss  Lila's  last  week." 

"  I  didn't,  Miss  Earl !"  cried  the  cripple,  reddening  as  ho 
spoke. 

"  Oh !  he  did,  Miss  Earl !  Stop  pinching  me,  Bro'  Felix. 
My  arm  is  all  black  and  blue,  now.  There  she  is !  Look, 
bere  on  my  side  !     Here  is  '  Red  Ridinghood  !'  " 

Edna  saw  a  little  girl  clad  in  scarlet,  and  led  by  a  grave, 
middle-aged  nurse,  who  was  walking  leisurely  toward  one 
of  the  lakes. 


ST.  ELMO  363 

Felix  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  cabled  to  the 
woman 

"  Hannah,  are  you  going  to  feed  the  swans  ?" 

"  Good  evening.     Yes,  Ave  are  going  there  now." 

"Well,  we  will  meet  you  there." 

"  What  is  the  child's  name  ?"  asked  Edna. 

"  Lila  Manning,  and  she  is  deaf  and  dumb.  We  talk  to 
her  on  our  fingers." 

They  left  the  carriage,  and  approached  the  groups  of 
children  gathered  on  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  at  sight  of 
Felix,  the  little  girl  in  scarlet  sprang  to  meet  him,  moving 
her  slender  fingers  rapidly  as  she  conversed  with  him.  She 
was  an  exceedingly  lovely  but  fragile  child,  apparently 
about  Hattie's  age ;  and  as  Edna  watched  the  changing  ex- 
pression of  her  delicate  features,  she  turned  to  the  nurse  and 
asked : 

"  Is  she  an  orphan  ?" 

"  Yes,  miss ;  but  she  will  never  find  it  out  as  long  as  her 
uncle  lives.     He  makes  a  great  pet  of  her." 

"  What  is  his  name,  and  where  does  he  reside  ?" 

"Mr.  Douglass  G.  Manning.  He  boards  at  ~No.  — 
Twenty-third  street ;  but  he  spends  most  of  his  time  at  the 
office.  No  matter  what  time  of  night  he  comes  home,  he 
never  goes  to  his  own  room  till  he  has  looked  at  Lila,  and 
kissed  her  good-night.  Master  Felix,  please  don't  untie  her 
hat,  the  wind  will  blow  her  hah  all  out  of  curl." 

For  some  time  the  children  were  much  amused  in  watch- 
ing the  swans,  and  when  they  expressed  themselves  willing 
to  resume  their  ride,  an  arrangement  was  made  with  Han- 
nah to  meet  at  the  same  place  the  ensuing  day.  They  re- 
turned to  the  carriage,  and  Felix  said : 

"  Don't  you  think  Lila  is  a  little  beauty  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  quite  agree  with  you.     Do  you  know  her  uncle  ?" 

"  No,  and  don't  want  to  know  him ;  he  is  too  cross  and 
sour.  I  have  seen  him  walking  sometimes  with  Lila,  and 
mamma  has  him  at  her  parties  and  dinners ;  but  Hattie  and 


364  ST-  elmo. 

I  never  see  the  company  unless  we  peep,  and,  above  all 
things,  I  hate  peeping  !  It  is  ungenteel  and  vulgar ;  only 
poor  people  peep.  Mr.  Manning  is  an  old  bachelor,  and 
very  crabbed,  so  my  uncle  Grey  says.     He  is  the  editor  of 

the  Magazine,  that  mamma  declares  she  can't  livo 

without.  Look !  look,  Hattie !  There  goes  mamma  this 
minute  !  Stop,  Patrick !  Uncle  Grey  !  Uncle  Grey !  hold 
up,  won't  you,  and  let  me  see  the  new  horses !" 

An  elegant  phaeton,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  superb  black 
horses,  drew  up  close  to  the  coupe,  and  Mrs.  Andrews  and 
her  only  brother,  Mr.  Grey  Chilton,  leaned  forward  and 
spoke  to  the  children ;  while  Mr.  Chilton,  who  was  driving, 
teased  Hattie  by  touching  her  head  and  shoulders  with  his 
whip. 

"  Uncle  Grey,  I  think  the  bays  are  the  handsomest." 

"Which  proves  you  utterly  incapable  of  judging  horse- 
flesh ;  for  these  are  the  finest  horses  in  the  city.  I  presume 
tins  is  Miss  Earl,  though  nobody  seems  polite  euough  to  in- 
troduce us." 

He  raised  his  hat  slightly,  bowed,  and  drove  on. 

"  Is  this  the  first  time  you  have  met  my  uncle  ?"  asked 
Felix. 

"  Yes.     Does  he  live  in  the  city  ?" 

"  Why  !  he  lives  with  us  !  Haven't  you  seen  him  about 
the  house  ?  You  must  have  heard  him  romping  around  with 
Hattie ;  for  they  make  noise  enough  to  call  in  the  police.  I 
think  my  uncle  Grey  is  the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw,  ex 
cept  Edwin  Booth,  when  he  plays  '  Hamlet.'  What  do  you 
say  ?" 

"  As  I  had  barely  a  glimpse  of  your  uncle,  I  formed  no 
opinion.  Felix,  button  your  coat  and  draw  your  shawl 
over  your  shoulders ;  it  is  getting  cold." 

When  they  reached  home  the  children  begged  for  some 
music,  and  placing  her  hat  on  a  chair,  Edna  sat  down  before 
the  piano,  and  played  and  sang  ;  while  Felix  stood  leaning 
on  his  crutches,  gazing  earnestly  into  the  face  of  his  teacher. 


FIT   ELMO.  365 

The  song  was  Longfellow's  "  Rainy  Day,"  and  vvhen  she 
concluded  it,  the  cripple  laid  his  thin  hand  on  hers  and  said : 

"  Sing  the  last  verse  again.  I  feel  as  if  I  should  always 
be  a  good  boy,  if  you  would  only  sing  that  for  me  every 
day.  '  Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall !'  Yes,  lameuesa 
fell  into  mine." 

While  she  complied  with  his  request,  Edna  watched  his 
Sallow  face,  and  saw  tears  gather  in  the  large,  sad  eyes,  and 
she  felt  that  henceforth  the  boy's  evil  spirit  could  be  exor- 
cised. 

"Miss  Earl,  we  never  had  a  governess  at  all  like  you. 
They  were  old,  and  cross,  and  ugly,  and  didn't  love  to  play 
chess,  and  could  not  sing,  and  I  hated  them  !  But  I  do  like 
you,  and  I  will  try  to  be  good." 

He  rested  his  head  against  her  arm,  and  she  turned  and 
kissed  his  pale,  broad  forehead. 

"  Halloo,  Felix  !  flirting  with  your  governess  ?  This  is  a 
new  phase  of  school  life.  You  ought  to  feel  quite  honored, 
Miss  Earl,  though  upon  my  word  I  am  sorry  for  you.  The 
excessive  amiability  of  my  nephew  has  driven  not  less  than 
six  of  your  predecessors  in  confusion  from  the  field,  leaA'ing 
him  victorious.  I  warn  you  he  is  an  incipient  Turenne, 
and  the  school-room  is  the  Franche  Comte  of  his  cam- 
paigns." 

Mr.  Chilton  came  up  to  the  piano,  and  curiously  scanned 
Edna's  face ;  but  taking  her  hat  and  veil,  she  rose  and  mov- 
ed toward  the  door,  saying : 

"  I  am  disposed  to  believe  that  he  has  been  quite  as  much 
sinned  against  as  sinning.  Come,  children,  it  is  time  for  your 
tea." 

From  that  nour  her  influence  over  the  boy  strengthened 
so  rapidly  that  before  she  had  been  a  month  in  the  house 
he  yielded  implicit  obedience  to  her  wishes,  and  could  not 
bear  for  her  to  leave  him,  even  for  a  moment.  When  more 
than  usually  fretful,  and  inclined  to  tyrannize  over  Hattie, 
or  speak  disrespectfully  to  his  mother,  a  warning  glance  or 


866  ST.  ELMO. 

word  from  Edna,  or  the  soft  touch  of  her  hat.d,  would  suf 
fice  to  restrain  the  threatened  outbreak. 

Her  days  were  passed  in  teaching,  reading  aloud,  and 
talking  to  the  children ;  and  when  released  from  her  duties 
she  went  invariably  to  her  desk,  devoting  more  than  half 
©f  the  night  to  the  completion  of  her  ms. 

As  she  took  her  meals  with  her  pupils,  she  rarely  saw  the 
other  members  of  the  household,  and  though  Mr.  Chilton 
now  and  then  sauntered  into  the  school-room  and  frolicked 
with  Hattie,  his  visits  were  coldly  received  by  the  teacher ; 
who  met  his  attempts  at  conversation  with  very  discourag- 
ing monosyllabic  replies. 

His  manners  led  her  to  suspect  that  the  good-looking 
lounger  was  as  vain  and  heartless  as  he  was  frivolous,  and 
she  felt  no  inclination  to  listen  to  his  trifling,  sans  souci 
chatter ;  consequently  when  he  thrust  himself  into  her  pres- 
ence she  either  picked  up  a  book  or  left  him  to  be  entertained 
by  the  children. 

One  evening  in  November  she  sat  in  her  own  room  pre- 
paring to  write,  and  pondering  the  probable  fate  of  a  sketch 
which  she  had  finished  and  dispatched  two  days  before  to 
the  office  of  the  magazine. 

The  principal  aim  of  the  little  tale  was  to  portray  the 
horrors  and  sin  of  dueling,  and  she  had  written  it  with 
great  care ;  but  well  aware  of  the  vast,  powerful  current  of 
popular  opinion  that  she  was  bravely  stiiving  to  stem,  and 
fully  conscious  that  it  would  subject  her  to  severe  animad- 
version from  those  who  defended  the  custom,  she  could  not 
divest  herself  of  apprehension  lest  the  article  should  be  re- 
jected. 

The  door-bell  rang,  and  soon  after  a  servant  brought  her 
a  card :  "  Mr.  D.  G.  Manning.     To  see  Miss  Earl." 

Flattered  and  frightened  by  a  visit  from  one  whose  opin- 
ions she  valued  so  highly,  Edna  smoothed  her  hair,  and  with 
trembling  fingers  changed  her  collar  and  cuffs,  and  wen* 


ST.  ELMO.  367 

down-stairs,  feeling  as  if  all  the  blood  in  her  body  were 
beating  a  tattoo  on  the  drum  of  her  ears. 

As  she  entered  the  library,  into  which  he  had  been  show  ft, 
(Mrs.  Andrews  having  guests  in  the  parlors,)  Edna  had  an 
opportunity  of  looking  unobserved  at  this  critical  ogre,  of 
whom  she  stood  in  such  profound  awe. 

Douglass  Manning  was  forty  years  old,  tall,  and  well 
built ;  wore  slender,  steel-rimmed  spectacles  which  some- 
what softened  the  light  of  his  keen,  cold,  black  eyes  ;  and 
carried  his  slightly  bald  head  with  the  haughty  air  of  one 
who  habitually  hurled  his  gauntlet  in  the  teeth  of  public 
opinion. 

He  stood  looking  up  at  a  pair  of  bronze  griffins  that 
crouched  on  the  top  of  the  rosewood  book-case,  and  the 
gaslight  falling  full  on  his  face,  showed  his  stern,  massive 
features,  which,  in  their  granitic  cast,  reminded  Edna  of 
those  of  Egyptian  Androsphinx — vast,  serene,  changeless. 

There  were  no  furrows  on  cheek  or  brow,  no  beard  veiled 
the  lines  and  angles  about  the  mouth,  but  as  she  marked 
the  chilling  repose  of  the  countenance,  so  indicative  of  con- 
scious power  and  well-regulated  strength,  why  did  mem- 
ory travel  swiftly  back  among  the  "  Stones  of  Venice,"  re- 
peating the  description  of  the  hawthorn  on  Bourges  Cathe- 
dral ?  "A  perfect  Niobe  of  May."  Had  this  man  petri- 
fied in  his  youth  before  the  steady  stylus  of  Time  left  on  his 
features  that  subtle  tracery  which  passing  years  engrave  on 
human  faces?  The  motto  of  his  magazine,  Veritas  sine 
dementia,  ruled  his  life,  and,  putting  aside  the  lenses  of 
passion  and  prejudice,  he  coolly,  quietly,  relentlessly  judged 
men  and  women  and  their  works ;  neither  loving  nor  hat- 
ing, pitying  nor  despising  his  race ;  looking  neither  to 
right  nor  left ;  laboring  steadily  as  a  thoroughly  well- 
balanced,  a  marvelously  perfect  intellectual  automaton. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Manning.  I  am  very  glad  to  meet 
you;  for  I  fear  my  letters  have  very  inadequately  ex- 
pressed my  gratitude  for  your  kindness." 


368  3T-  elmo. 

Her  voice  trembled  slightly,  and  she  put  out  her  hai.d. 
He  turned,  bowed,  offered  her  a  chair,  and,  as  they  seated 
themselves,  he  examined  her  face  as  he  would  have  searched 
the  title-page  of  some  new  book  for  an  insight  into  its  con- 
tents. 

"  When  did  you  reach  New- York,  Miss  Earl  ?" 

"  Six  weeks  ago." 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  you  were  in  the  city,  until  I  re- 
ceived your  note  two  days  since.  How  long  do  you  intend 
to  remain  ?" 

"  Probably  the  rest  of  my  life,  if  I  find  it  possible  to  sup- 
port myself  comfortably." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Andrews  an  old  friend  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  she  was  a  stranger  to  me  when  I  entered  her 
house  as  governess  for  her  children." 

"  Miss  Earl,  you  are  much  younger  than  I  had  supposed. 
Your  writings  led  me  to  imagine  that  you  were  at  least 
thirty,  whereas  I  find  you  almost  a  child.  "Will  your  duties 
as  governess  conflict  with  your  literary  labors  ?" 

"  No,  sir.     I  shall  continue  to  write." 

"  You  appear  to  have  acted  upon  my  suggestion,  to 
abandon  the  idea  of  a  book,  and  confine  your  attention  to 
short  sketches." 

"  No,  sir.  I  adhere  to  my  original  purpose,  and  am  at 
work  upon  the  manuscript  which  you  advised  me  to  de- 
stroy." 

He  fitted  his  glasses  more  firmly  on  his  nose,  and  she 
Baw  the  gleam  of  his  strong  white  teeth,  as  a  half  smile 
moved  his  lips." 

"  Miss  Earl,  my  desk  is  very  near  a  window,  and,  as  I 
was  writing  late  last  night,  I  noticed  several  large  moths 
beating  against  the  glass  which  fortunately  barred  their 
approach  to  the  flame  of  the  gas  inside.  Perhaps  inexpe- 
rience whispered  that  it  was  a  cruel  fate  that  shut  them  out; 
but  which  heals  soonest,  disappointed  curiosity  or  singed 
wind's  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  309 

"  Mr.  Manning,  why  do  you  apprehend  rr.oi  e  danger  from 
writing  a  book  than  from  the  preparation  of  migazine  ar- 
tides  ?" 

"  Simply  because  the  peril  is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the 
book  you  contemplate.  Unless  I  totally  misunderstand  your 
views,  you  indulge  in  the  rather  extraordinary  belief  that 
all  works  of  fiction  should  be  eminently  didactic,  and  incul- 
cate not  only  sound  morality  but  scientific  theories.  Here- 
in, permit  me  to  say,  you  entirely  misapprehend  the  spirit 
of  the  age.  People  read  novels  merely  to  be  amused,  not 
educated ;  and  they  will  not  tolerate  technicalities  and  ab- 
stract speculation  in  lieu  of  exciting  plots  and  melodramatic 
denouements.  Persons  who  desire  to  learn  something  of 
astronomy,  geology,  chemistry,  philology,  etc.,  never  think 
of  finding  what  they  require  in  the  pages  of  a  novel,  but 
apply  at  once  to  the  text-books  of  the  respective  sciences, 
and  would  as  soon  hunt  for  a  lover's  sentimental  dialogue 
in  Newton's  'Principia,'  or  spicy  small-talk  in  Kant's 
Critique,'  as  expect  an  epitome  of  modern  science  in  a 
work  of  fiction." 

"  But,  sir,  how  many  habitual  novel-readers  do  you  sup- 
pose will  educate  themselves  thoroughly  from  the  text-books 
to  which  you  refer  ?" 

"  A  modicum,  I  grant  you ;  yet  it  is  equally  true  that  those 
who  merely  read  to  be  amused  will  not  digest  the  scientific 
dishes  you  set  before  them.  On  the  contrary,  far  from  ap- 
preciating your  charitable  efforts  to  elevate  and  broaden 
their  range  of  vision,  they  will  either  sneer  at  the  author's 
pedantry,  or  skip  over  every  passage  that  necessitates 
thought  to  comprehend  it,  and  rush  on  to  the  next  page  to 
discover  whether  the  heroine,  Miss  Imogene  Arethusa  Peno 
lope  Brown,  wore  blue  or  pink  tarlatan  to  her  first  b  all,  01 
whether  on  the  day  of  her  elopement  the  indignant  papa 
succeeded  in  preventing  the  consummation  of  her  felicity 
with  Mr.  Belshazzar  Algeimon  Nebuchadnezzar  Smith.  I 
neither  magnify  n«r  dwarf,  I  merely  state  a  simple  fact." 


870  ST.  ELMO. 

"But,  Mr.  Manning,  do  you  not  regard  the  writers  ol 
each  age  as  the  custodians  of  its  tastes,  as  well  as  its  morals  ?" 

"  Certainly  not ;  they  simply  reflect  and  do  not  mould 
public  taste.  Shakespeare,  Hogarth,  Rabelais,  portrayed 
men  and  things  as  they  found  them ;  not  as  they  might, 
could,  would,  or  should  have  been.  Was  Sir  Petei  Lely 
responsible  for  the  style  of  dress  worn  by  court  beauties  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.  ?  He  faithfully  painted  what  passed 
before  him.  Miss  Earl,  the  objection  I  urge  against  the 
novel  you  are  preparing  does  not  apply  to  magazine  essays, 
where  an  author  may  concentrate  all  the  erudition  he  can 
obtain  and  ventilate  it  unchallenged ;  for  review  writers 
now  serve  the  public  in  much  the  same  capacity  that  cup- 
bearers did  royalty  in  ancient  days  ;  and  they  are  expected 
to  taste  strong  liquors  as  well  as  sweet  cordials  and  sour 
light  wines.  Moreover,  a  certain  haze  of  sanctity  envelopes 
the  precints  of  '  Maga,'  whence  the  incognito  '  we  '  thun- 
ders with  oracular  power;  for,  nowithstanding  the  rapid 
annihilation  of  all  classic  faith  in  modern  times  which  per- 
mits the  conversion  of  Virgil's  Avernus  into  a  model  oyster- 
farm,  the  credulous  public  fondly  cling  to  the  myth  that 
editorial  sanctums  alone  possess  the  sacred  tripod  of  Delphi. 
Curiosity  is  the  best  stimulant  for  public  interest,  and  it 
has  become  exceedingly  difficult  to  conceal  the  authorship 
of  a  book,  while  that  of  magazine  articles  can  readily  be 
disguised.  I  repeat,  the  world  of  novel-readers  constitute  a 
huge  hippodrome,  where,  if  you  can  succeed  in  amusing 
your  spectators  or  make  them  gasp  in  amazement  at  youi 
rhetorical  legerdemain,  they  will  applaud  vociferously,  and 
pet  you,  as  they  would  a  graceful  danseuse,  or  a  dexterous 
acrobat,  or  a  daring  equestrian ;  but  if  you  attempt  to  edu- 
cate or  lecture  them,  you  will  either  declaim  to  empty 
benches  or  be  hissed  clown.  They  expect  you  to  help  them 
kill  time  not  improve  it." 

"  Sir,  is  it  not  nobler  to  struggle  against  than  to  float  ig- 
nominiously  with  the  tide  of  degenerate  opinion?" 


ST.  ELMO.  37j 

'  'Thai  depends  altogether  on  the  earnest. ess  c*  y.)ir  de 
sire  for  martyrdom  by  drowning.  I  have  seen  stronger 
swimmers  than  you  go  down,  after  desperate  efforts  to  keep 
their  heads  above  water." 

Edna  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap,  and  looked  steadily 
into  the  calm,  cold  eyes  of  the  editor,  then  shook  her  head, 
and  answered : 

"I  shall  not  drown.  At  all  events  I  will  risk  it.  I 
would  rather  sink  in  the  effort  than  live  without  attempt- 
ing it." 

"  When  you  require  ointment  for  singed  wings,  I  shall 
have  no  sympathy  with  which  to  anoint  them ;  for,  like 
most  of  your  sex,  I  see  you  mistake  blind  obstinacy  for  ra- 
tional, heroic  firmness.  The  next  number  of  the  magazine 
will  contain  the  contribution  you  sent  me  two  days  since ; 
and,  while  I  do  not  accept  all  your  views,  I  think  it  by  far 
the  best  thing  I  have  yet  seen  from  your  pen.  It  will,  of 
course,  provoke  controversy,  but  for  that  result  I  presume 
you  are  prepared.  Miss  Earl,  you  are  a  stranger  in  New- 
York,  and  if  I  can  serve  you  in  any  way,  I  shall  be  glad  to 
do  so." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Manning.  I  need  some  books  which  1 
am  not  able  to  purchase,  and  can  not  find  in  this  house ;  if 
you  can  spare  them  temporarily  from  your  library,  you  will 
confer  a  great  favor  on  me." 

"Certainly.  Have  you  a  list  of  those  which  you  re 
quire  ?" 

"No  sir,  but " 

"Here  is  a  pencil  and  piece  of  paper;  write  dcwn  the 
titles,  and  I  will  have  them  sent  to  you  in  the  morn.ng." 

She  turned  to  the  table  to  prepare  the  catalogue,  and  all 
the  while  Mr.  Manning's  keen  eyes  scanned  her  countenance, 
dress,  and  figure.  A  half-smile  once  more  stirred  his  grave 
lips  when  she  gave  him  the  paper,  over  which  he  glanced 
indifferently. 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  fear  you  will  regret  your  determination  to 


372  ST.  ELMO. 

make  literature  a  profession ;  for  your  letters  informed  im 
that  you  are  poor ;  and  doubtless  you  remember  the  witti< 
cism  concerning  the  '  republic  of  letters  which  contained 
not  a  sovereign.'  Your  friend,  Mr.  Murray,  appreciated 
the  obstacles  you  are  destined  to  encounter,  and  I  am  afraid 
you  will  not  find  life  in  New- York  as  agreeable  as  it  waf 
under  his  roof." 

"  When  did  you  hejx  from  him  ?" 

"I  received  a  letter  this  morning." 

"  And  you  called  to  see  me  because  he  requested  you  tc 
do  so  ?" 

"  I  had  determine  d  to  come  before  his  letter  arrived." 

He  noticed  the  incredulous  smile  that  flitted  across  her 
face,  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  continued  : 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  discourage  you,  on  the  contrary,  I  sin- 
cerely desire  to  aid  you,  but  Mill  has  analyzed  the  subject 
very  ably  in  his  \  Political  Economy,'  and  declares  that  '  on 
any  rational  calculation  of  chances  in  the  existing  competi- 
tion, no  writer  can  hope  to  gain  a  living  by  books  ;  and  to 
do  so  by  magazines  and  reviews  becomes  daily  more  diffi- 
cult.' " 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  passage  is  not  encouraging ;  but  I  comfort 
myself  with  another  from  the  same  book  :  '  In  a  national  01 
universal  point  of  view  the  labor  of  the  savant  or  specula 
tive  thinker  is  as  much  a  part  of  production,  in  the  very 
narrowest  sense,  as  that  of  the  inventor  of  a  practical  art. 
The  electro-magnetic  telegraph  was  the  wonderful  and 
most  unexpected  consequence  of  the  experiments  of  Oersted, 
and  the  mathematical  investigations  of  Ampere  ;  and  the 
modern  art  of  navigation  is  an  unforeseen  emanation  from 
the  purely  speculative  and  apparently  merely  curious  in- 
quiry, by  the  mathematicians  of  Alexandria,  into  the  proper- 
ties of  three  curves  formed  by  the  intersection  of  a  plane 
surface  and  a  cone.  ~No  limit  can  be  set  to  the  importance, 
even  in  a  purely  productive  and  material  point  of  view,  of 
mere   thought.'    Sir,  the  economic  law  which  regulates  the 


ST.  ELMO  373 

wages  of  mechanics  should  operate  correspondingly  in  the 
realm  of  letters." 

"  Your  memory  is  remarkably  accurate." 

"  Not  always,  sir ;  but  when  I  put  it  on  its  honor,  and 
trust  some  special  treasure  to  its  guardianship,  it  rarely 
proves  treacherous." 

"  I  think  you  can  command  better  wages  for  your  work 
in  New- York  than  anywhere  else  on  this  continent.  You 
have  begun  well ;  permit  me  to  say  to  you  be  careful,  do 
not  write  too  rapidly,  and  do  not  despise  adverse  criticism. 
If  agreeable  to  you,  I  will  call  early  next  week  and  accom- 
pany you  to  the  public  libraries,  which  contain  much  that 
may  interest  you.  I  will  send  you  a  note  as  soon  as  1 
ascertain  when  I  can  command  the  requisite  leisure ;  and 
should  you  need  my  services,  I  hope  you  will  not  hesitate 
to  claim  them.     Good  evening,  Miss  Earl." 

He  bowed  himself  out  of  the  library,  and  Edna  went 
back  to  her  own  room,  thinking  of  the  brief  interview,  and 
confessing  her  disappointment  in  the  conversation  of  this 
most  dreaded  of  critics. 

"  He  is  polished  as  an  icicle,  and  quite  as  cold.  He  may 
be  very  accurate  and  astute  and  profound,  but  certainly  he 
is  not  half  so  brilliant  as " 

She  did  not  complete  the  parallel,  but  compressed  her 
lips,  took  iip  her  pen,  and  began  to  write. 

On  the  following  morning  Mrs.  Andrews  came  into  the 
school-room,  and,  after  kissing  her  children,  turned  blandly 
to  the  governess. 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  believe  Mr.  Manning  called  upon  you  last 
evening.     "Where  did  you  know  him  ?" 

"  I  never  saw  him  until  yesterday,  but  we  have  corre- 
sponded for  some  time." 

"  Indeed !  you  are  quite  honored.  He  is  considered  very 
fastidious." 

"  He  is  certainly  hypercritical,  yet  I  have  found  him  kind 
<md  gentlemanly,  even  courteous.     Our  correspondence  in 


374  ST.  ELMO.       ~ 

entirely  attributable  to  the  fact  that  I  write  for  h.s  maga 
zine." 

Mrs.  Andrews  dropped  her  ivory  crochet-needle  and  sat, 
for  a  moment,  the  picture  of  wide-eyed  amazement. 

"Is  it  possible!  I  had  no  idea  you  were  an  author.  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?     What  have  you  written  ?" 

Edna  mentioned  the  titles  of  her  published  articles,  and 
the  lady  of  the  house  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh !  that  '  Vigil  at  Grtitli '  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
things  I  ever  read,  and  I  have  often  teased  Mr.  Manning  to 
tell  me  who  wrote  it.  That  apostrophe  to  the  Thirty  Con- 
federates is  so  mournfully  grand  that  it  brings  tears  to  my 
eyes.  Why,  Miss  Earl,  you  will  be  famous  some  day !  If 
I  had  your  genius,  I  should  never  think  of  plodding  through 
life  as  a  governess." 

"  But,  my  dear  madam,  I  must  make  my  bread,  and  am 
compelled  to  teach  while  I  write." 

"  I  do  not  see  what  time  you  have  for  writing.  I  notice 
you  never  leave  the  children  till  they  are  asleep ;  and  you 
must  sleep  enough  to  keep  yourself  alive.  Are  you  writing 
any  thing  at  present  ?" 

"  I  finished  an  article  several  days  ago  which  will  be  pub- 
lished in  the  next  number  of  the  magazine.  Of  course  I 
have  no  leisure  during  the  day,  but  I  work  till  late  at  night." 

"Miss  Earl,  if  you  have  no  objection  to  acquainting  me 
with  your  history,  I  should  like  very  much  to  know  some- 
thing of  your  early  life  and  education." 

While  Edna  gave  a  brief  account  of  her  childhood,  Felix 
nestled  his  hand  into  hers,  and  laid  his  head  on  her  knee, 
listening  eagerly  to  every  word. 

When  she  concluded,  Mrs.  Andrews  mused  a  moment, 
and  then  said : 

"  Ilenceforth,  Miss  Earl,  you  will  occupy  a  different  posi- 
tion in  my  house;  and  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  introducing 
you  to  such  of  my  friends  as  will  appreciate  your  +alent.  I 
hope  you  will  not  confine  yourself  exclusively  to  my  child 


ST.  ELMO.  375 

ren,  but  come  down  sometimes  in  the  evening  and  sit  with 
me ;  and,  moreover,  I  prefer  that  you  snould  dine  with  us, 
instead  of  with  these  nursery  folks,  who  are  not  quite  sapa- 
ble  of  appreciating  you " 

"How  do  you  know  that,  mamma?  I  can  tell  you  one 
thing,  I  appreciated  her  before  I  found  out  that  she  was 
likely  to  be  '  famous ' !  Before  I  knew  that  Mr.  Manning 
condescended  to  notice  her.  We 'nursery  folk' judge  for 
ourselves,  we  don't  wait  to  find  out  what  other  people  think, 
and  I  shan't  give  up  Miss  Earl !  She  is  my  governess,  and  I 
wish  you  would  just  let  her  alone!  " 

There  was  a  touch  of  scorn  in  the  boy's  impatient  tone, 
and  his  mother  bit  her  lip,  and  laughed  constrainedly. 

"  Really,  Felix  !  who  gave  you  a  bill  of  sale  to  Miss  Earl  ? 
She  should  consider  herself  exceedingly  fortunate,  as  she 
is  the  first  of  all  your  teachers  with  whom  you  have  not 
quarrelled  most  shamefully,  even  fought  and  scratched." 

"  And  because  she  is  sweet,  and  good  and  pretty,  and  i 
love  her,  you  must  interfere  and  take  her  off  to  entertain 
your  company.  She  came  here  to  take  care  of  Hattie  and 
me,  and  not  to  go  down-stairs  to  see  visitors.  She  can't  go 
mamma.  I  want  her  myself.  You  have  all  the  world  to 
talk  to,  and  I  have  only  her.     Don't  meddle,  mamma." 

"  You  are  very  selfish  and  ill-tempered,  my  poor  little 
boy,  and  I  am  heartily  ashamed  of  5  ou." 

"  If  I  am,  it  is  because " 

"  Hush,  Felix !" 

Edna  laid  her  hand  on  the  pale,  curling  lips  of  the  cripple, 
and  luckily  at  this  instant  Mrs.  Andrews  was  summoned 
from  the  room. 

Scarcely  waiting  till  the  door  closed  after  her,  the  boy 
exclaimed  passionately : 

"  Felix  !  don't  call  me  Felix !  That  means  happy,  lucky ! 
and  she  had  no  right  to  give  me  such  a  name.  I  am  In- 
felix  !  nobody  loves  me !  nobody  cares  for  me,  except  te 
pity  me,  and  I  would  rather  be  strangled  than  pitied !     1 


376  &r-  elho. 

wish  T  was  dead  and  at  rest  in  Greenwood !  I  wish  some- 
body would  knock  my  brains  out  with  my  cru'.ch  !  and  save 
me  from  hobbling  through  life.  Even  my  mother  is 
ashamed  of  my  deformity  !  She  ought  to  have  treated  me 
as  the  Spartans  did  their  dwarfs  !  She  ought  to  have 
thrown  me  into  East  River  before  I  was  a  day  old  !  I 
wish  I  was  dead !     Oh  !  I  do  !  I  do !" 

"  Felix,  it  is  very  wicked  to " 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  be  called  Felix,  Whenever  I  hear 
the  name  it  makes  me  feel  as  I  did  one  day  when  my 
crutches  slipped  on  the  ice,  and  I  fell  on  the  pavement  before 
the  door,  and  some  newsboys  stood  and  laughed  at  me. 
Infelix  Andrews !  I  want  that  written  on  my  tombstone 
when  I  am  buried." 

He  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  angry  tears  dimmed 
his  large,  flashing  eyes,  while  Hattie  sat  with  her  elbows 
resting  on  her  knees,  and  her  chin  in  her  hands,  looking  sor- 
rowfully at  her  brother. 

Edna  put  her  arm  around  the  boy's  shoulder,  and  drew 
his  head  down  on  her  lap,  saying  tenderly : 

"Your  mother  did  not  mean  that  she  was  ashamed  of  her 
son,  but  only  grieved  and  mortified  by  his  ungovernable 
temper,  which  made  him  disrespectful  to  her.  I  know  that 
she  is  very  proud  of  your  fine  intellect;  and  your  ambition 
to  become  a  thorough  scholar,  and " 

"  Oh !  yes,  and  of  my  handsome  body  !  and  my  pretty  feet !'' 

"My  dear  little  boy,  it  is  sinful  for  you  to  speak  in  that 
way,  and  God  will  punish  you  if  you  do  not  struggle  against 
suoh  feelings." 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  be  planished  any  more  than  I  have 
been  already.  To  be  a  lame  dwarf  is  the  worst  that  can 
happen." 

"Suppose  you  were  poor  and  friendless — an  orphan  with 
no  one  to  care  for  you  ?  Suppose  you  had  no  dear,  good, 
little  sister  like  Hattie  to  love  you?  Now,  Felix,  I  know 
that  the  very  fact  that  you  are  not  as  strong  and  well-grown 


ST.  ELMO.  877 

as  most  boys  of  your  age,  only  makes  your  mother  and  all 
of  ns  love  you  more  tenderly  ;  and  it  is  very  ungrateful  in 
you  to  talk  so  bitterly  when  we  are  trying  to  make  you 
happy  and  good  and  useful.  Look  at  little  Lila,  shut  up  in 
silence,  unable  to  speak  one  word,  or  to  hear  a  bird  sing  or 
a  baby  laugh,  and  yet  see  how  merry  and  good-natured  she 
is.  How  much  more  afflicted  she  is  than  you  are !  Sup- 
pose she  was  always  fretting  and  complaining,  looking  mis- 
erable and  sour,  and  out  of  humor,  do  you  think  you  would 
love  her  half  as  well  as  you  do  now  ?" 

He  made  no  reply,  but  his  thin  hands  covered  his  sallow 
face. 

Hattie  came  close  to  him,  sat  down  on  the  carpet,  and 
put  her  head,  thickly  crowned  with  yellow  curls,  on  his 
knee.  Her  uncle  Grey  had  given  her  a  pretty  ring  the  day 
before,  and  now  she  silently  and  softly  took  it  from  her  own 
finger,  and  slipped  it  on  her  brother's. 

"  Felix,  you  and  Hattie  were  so  delighted  with  that  little 
poem  which  I  read  to  you  from  the  Journal  of  Euge'nie  de 
Guerin,  that  I  have  tried  to  set  it  to  music  for  you.  The 
tune  does  not  suit  it  exactly,  but  we  can  use  it  until  I  find 
a  better  one." 

She  went  to  the  piano  and  sang  that  exquisite  nursery 
ballad,  "  Jotjjott,  the  angel  op  the  Playthings." 

Hattie  clapped  her  hands  with  delight,  and  Felix  partially 
forgot  his  woes  and  grievances. 

"  Now,  I  want  you  both  to  learn  to  sing  it,  and  I  will 
teach  Hattie  the  accompaniment.  On  Felix's  birthday, 
which  is  not  very  distant,  you  can  surprise  your  father  and 
mother  by  singing  it  for  them.  In  gratitude  to  the  author 
I  think  every  little  child  should  sing  it  and  call  it '  Eugenie's 
Angel  Song.'  Hattie,  it  is  eleven  o'clock,  and  time  for  yoo 
to  practise  your  music-lesson." 

The  lifctle  girl  climbed  upon  the  piano-stool  and  began  tc 
count  aloud,  and  after  a  while  Edna  bent  down  and  put 
her  hand  on  Felix's  shoulder 


378  ST-  elmo. 

"  You  grieved  your  mother  this  morning  and  spoke  a  ery 
disrespectfully  to  her.  I  know  you  regret  it,  and  you  onght 
to  tell  her  so  and  ask  her  to  forgive  you.  You  would  feel 
happier  all  day  if  you  would  only  acknowledge  your  fault. 
I  hear  your  mother  in  her  own  room :  will  you  not  go  and 
kiss  her  ?" 

He  averted  his  head  and  muttered : 

"  I  dont  want  to  kiss  her." 

"  But  you  ought  to  be  a  dutiful  son,  and  you  are  not ; 
and  your  mother  has  cause  to  be  displeased  with  you.  If 
you  should  ever  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  her,  and  stand 
as  I  do,  motherless,  in  the  world,  you  will  regret  the  pain 
you  gave  her  this  morning.  Oh  !  if  I  had  the  privilege  of 
kissing  my  mother,  I  could  bear  almost  any  sorrow  patiently. 
If  it  mortifies  you  to  acknowledge  your  bad  behavior,  it 
is  the  more  necessary  that  you  should  humble  your  pride. 
Felix,  sometimes  I  think  it  requires  more  nobility  of  sou] 
to  ask  pardon  for  our  faults  than  to  resist  the  temptation 
to  commit  them." 

She  turned  away  and  busied  herself  in  correcting  his 
Latin  exercise,  and  for  some  time  the  boy  sat  sullen  and 
silent. 

At  length  he  sighed  heavily,  and,  taking  his  crutches, 
came  up  to  the  table  where  she  sat. 

"Suppose  you  tell  my  mother  I  am  sorry  I  was  disre- 
spectful." 

"  Felix,  are  you  really  sorry  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  go  and  tell  her  so,  and  she  will  love  you  a 
thousand  times  more  than  ever  before.  The  confession 
Bhould  come  from  your  own  lips." 

He  stood  irresolute  and  sighed  again  : 

"  I  will  go,  if  you  will  go  with  me." 

She  rose,  and  they  went  to  Mrs.  Andrews's  room.  The 
mother  was  superbly  dressed  in  visiting  costume,  and  was 
tying  on  her  bonnet  when  they  entered. 


8T.   ULMO.  379 

"  Mrs.  Andrews,  your  son  wishes  to  say  something  which 
I  think  you  will  be  glad  to  hear." 

"  Indeed  !     Well,  Felix,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  Mamma — I  believe — I  know  I  was  very  cross — and  dis- 
respectful to  you — and  O  mamma !  I  hope  you  will  forgive 
rae !" 

He  dropped  his  crutches  and  stretched  out  his  arms,  arid 
Mrs.  Andrews  threw  down  the  diamond  cluster,  with  which 
she  was  fastening  her  ribbons  and  caught  the  boy  to  her 
bosom. 

"My  precious  child!  my  darling!  Of  course  I  forgive 
you  gladly.  My  dear  son,  if  you  only  knew  half  how  well 
I  love  you,  you  would  not  grieve  me  so  often  by  your  pas- 
sionate temper.     My  darling  ! " 

She  stooped  to  kiss  him,  and  when  she  turned  to  look  for 
the  girlish  form  of  the  governess,  it  was  no  longer  visible : 
mother  and  son  were  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


fURING  the  first  few  months  after  her  removal  to 
New- York,  Edna  received  frequent  letters  from 
Mrs.  Murray  and  Mr.  Hammond ;  but  as  winte> 
advanced  they  wrote  more  rarely  and  hurried- 
ly, and  finally  many  weeks  elapsed  without  bringing  any 
tidings  from  Le  Bocage.  St.  Elmo's  name  was  never  men- 
tioned, and  while  the  girl's  heart  ached,  she  crushed  ii  more 
ruthlessly  day  by  day,  and  in  retaliation  imposed  additional 
and  unremitting  toil  upon  her  brain. 

Mr.  Manning  had  called  twice  to  escort  her  to  the  libra- 
ries and  art-galleries,  and  occasionally  he  sent  her  new 
books,  and  English  and  French  periodicals ;  but  his  chill, 
imperturbable  calmness  oppressed  and  embarrassed  Edna, 
and  formed  a  barrier  to  all  friendly  warmth  in  their  inter- 
course. He  so  completely  overawed  her,  that  in  his  au- 
gust presence  she  was  unable  to  do  herself  justice,  and  felt 
that  she  was  not  gaining  ground  in  his  good  opinion.  The 
brooding  serenity  of  his  grave,  Egyptic  face  was  not  conta- 
gious ;  and  she  was  conscious  of  a  vague  disquiet,  a  painful 
restlessness,  when  in  his  company  and  under  his  cold, 
changeless  eyes. 

One  morning  in  January  as  she  sat  listening  to  Felix's 
recitations,  Mrs.  Andrews  came  into  the  school-room  with 
an  open  note  in  one  hand,  and  an  exquisite  bouquet  in  the 
other. 

"  Miss  Earl,  here  is  an  invitation  for  you  to  accompany 
Mr.  Manning  to  the  opera,  to-night ;  and  here,  too,  is  a  bou 


SI.  ELMO.  381 

quet  from  the  same  considerate  gentleman.  As  he  dots  me 
the  honor  to  request  my  company  also,  I  came  to  confer 
with  you  before  sending  a  reply.     Of  course  you  will  go  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Andrews,  if  you  will  go  with  me." 

Edna  bent  over  her  flowers,  and  recognizing  many  favor- 
ites that  recalled  the  hot-house  at  Le  Bocage,  her  eyes  tilled 
with  tears,  and  she  hastily  put  her  lips  to  the  snowy  cups 
of  an  oxalis.  How  often  she  had  seen  just  such  fragile 
petals  nestling  in  the  button-hole  of  Mr.  Murray's  coat. 

"  I  shall  write  and  invite  him  to  come  early  and  take  tea 
with  us.  Now,  Miss  Earl,  pardon  my  candor,  I  should  like 
to  know  what  you  intend  to  wear?  You  know  that  Mr. 
Manning  is  quite  lionized  here,  and  you  will  have  to  face  a 
terrific  battery  of  eyes  and  lorgnettes ;  for  every  body  will 
stretch  his  or  her  neck  to  find  out,  first,  who  you  are,  and 
secondly,  how  you  are  dressed.  Now  I  think  I  understand 
rather  better  than  you  do  what  is  comme  il  faut  in  these 
matters,  and  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to  dictate  on  this 
occasion.  Moreover,  our  distinguished  escort  is  extremely 
fastidious  concerning  ladies'  toilettes.'''' 

"  Here  are  my  keys,  Mrs.  Andrews  ;  examine  my  ward- 
robe and  select  what  you  consider  appropriate  for  to-night." 

"  On  condition  that  you  permit  me  to  supply  any  deficien- 
cies which  I  may  discover?  Come  to  my  room  at  six 
o'clock,  and  let  Victorine  dress  your  hair.  Let  me  see,  I 
expect  a  la  Grec  will  best  suit  your  head  and  face." 

Edna  turned  to  her  pupils  and  their  books,  but  all  day 
the  flowers  in  the  vase  on  the  table  prattled  of  days  gone 
by ;  of  purple  sunsets  streaming  through  golden-starred 
acacia  boughs ;  of  long,  languid,  luxurious  Southern  after- 
noons dying  slowly  on  beds  of  heliotrope  and  jasmine,  spicy 
geraniums  and  gorgeous  pelargoniums ;  of  dewy,  delicious 
summer  mornings,  for  ever  and  ever  past,  when  standing 
beside  a  quivering  snow-bank  of  Lamarque  roses,  she  had 
watched  Tamerlane  and  his  gloomy  rider  go  down  the  shad- 
owy avenue  of  elms. 


382  ST-  ELMO. 

The  monotonous  hum  of  the  children's  voices  seemed 
thin  and  strange  and  far,  far  off,  jarring  the  sweet  bouquet 
babble ;  and  still  as  the  hours  passed,  and  the  winter  day- 
waned,  the  flower  Fugue  swelled  on  and  on,  through  the 
cold  and  dreary  chambers  of  her  heart ;  now  rising  stormy 
and  passionate,  like  a  battle-blast,  from  the  deep  orange 
trumpet  of  a  bignonia ;  and  now  whispering  and  sobbing 
and  pleading,  from  the  pearly  white  lips  of  hallowed  oxalis. 

When  she  sat  that  night  in  Mr.  Manning's  box  at  the 
Academy  of  Music,  the  editor  raised  his  opera-glass,  swept 
the  crowded  house,  scanning  the  lovely,  beaming  faces 
wreathed  with  smiles,  and  then  his  grave,  piercing  glance 
came  back  and  dwelt  on  the  countenance  at  his  side.  The 
cherry  silk  lining  and  puffings  on  her  opera-cloak  threw  a 
delicate  stain  of  color  over  her  exquisitely  moulded  cheeks, 
and  in  the  braid  of  black  hair  which  rested  like  a  coronal 
on  her  polished  brow,  burned  a  scarlet  anemone.  Her  long 
lashes  drooped  as  she  looked  down  at  the  bouquet  between 
her  fingers,  and  listening  to  the  Fugue  which  memory  played 
on  the  petals,  she  sighed  involuntarily. 

"  Miss  Earl,  is  this  your  first  night  at  the  opera  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  was  here  once  before  with  Mr.  Andrews  and 
his  children." 

"I  judge  from  your  writings  that  you  are  particularly 
fond  of  music." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  think  few  persons  love  it  better  than  I  do." 

"  What  style  do  you  prefer  ?" 

"  Sacred  music — oratorios  rather  than  operas." 

The  orchestra  began  an  overture  of  Verdi's,  and  Edna's 
eyes  went  back  to  her  flowers. 

Presently  Mrs.  Andrews  said  eagerly : 

"  Look,  Miss  Earl !  Yonder,  in  the  box  directly  opposite, 
is  the  celebrated  Sir  Roger  Percival,  the  English  nobleman 
about  whom  all  Gotham  is  running  mad.  If  he  has  not 
more  sense  than  most  men  of  his  age,  his  head  will  be  com- 
pletely turned  by  the  flattery  heaped  upon  him.     What  a 


ST.  ELMO.  3S8 

commentary  on  Republican  Americans,  that  we  are  sc  daz- 
zled by  the  glitter  of  a  title !  However,  he  really  is  very 
agreeable ;  I  have  met  him  several  times,  dined  with  him 
last  week  at  the  Coltons.  He  has  been  watching  ns  for 
some  minutes.  Ah  !  there  is  a  bow  for  me ;  and  one  I  pre- 
sume for  you,  Mr.  Manning." 

"  Yes,  I  knew  him  abroad.  We  spent  a  month  together 
at  Dresden,  and  his  brain  is  strong  enough  to  bear  all  the 
adulation  New-Yorkers  offer  his  title." 

Edna  looked  into  the  opposite  box,  and  saw  a  tall,  ele- 
gantly-dressed man,  with  huge  whiskers,  and  a  glittering 
opera-glass ;  and  then  as  the  curtain  rose  on  the  first  act  of 
"  Ernani,"  she  turned  to  the  stage,  and  gave  her  entire  at' 
tention  to  the  music. 

At  the  close  of  the  second  act  Mrs.  Andrews  said : 

"  Pray,  who  is  that  handsome  man  down  yonder  in  the 
parquet,  fanning  himself  with  a  libretto  ?  I  do  not  think 
his  eyes  have  moved  from  this  box  for  the  last  ten  minutes. 
He  is  a  stranger  to  me." 

She  turned  her  fan  in  the  direction  of  the  person  indicated, 
and  Mr.  Manning  looked  down  and  answered : 

"  He  is  unknown  to  me." 

Edna's  eyes  involuntarily  wandered  over  the  sea  of  heads, 
and  the  editor  saw  her  start  and  lean  forward,  and  noticed 
the  sudden  joy  that  flashed  into  her  face,  as  she  met  the 
earnest,  upward  gaze  of  Gordon  Leigh. 

"  An  acquaintance  of  yours,  Miss  Earl  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  an  old  friend  from  the  South." 

The  door  of  the  box  opened,  and  Sir  Roger  Percival  came 
in  and  seated  himself  near  Mrs.  Andrews,  who  in  her  cor- 
dial welcome  seemed  utterly  to  forget  the  presence  of  the 
governess. 

Mr.  Manning  sat  close  to  Edna,  and  taking  a  couple  of 
letters  from  his  pocket  he  laid  them  on  her  lap,  saying : 

"  These  letters  were  directed  to  my  care  by  persons  who 
are  ignorant  of  your  name  and  address.     If  you  will  not 


384  8T-  ELMO. 

consider  me  unpardonably  curious,  I  should  like  to  know 
the  nature  of  their  contents." 

She  broke  the  seals  and  read  the  most  nattering  commen- 
dation of  her  magazine  sketches,  the  most  cordial  thanks  for 
the  pleasure  derived  from  their  perusal ;  but  the  signatures 
were  unknown  to  her. 

A  sudden  wave  of  crimson  surged  into  her  face  as  she 
eilently  put  the  letters  into  Mr.  Manning's  hand,  and 
watched  his  grave,  fixed,  undemonstrative  features,  while 
he  read,  refolded,  and  returned  them  to  her. 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  have  received  several  documents  of  a  simi- 
lar character  asking  for  your  address.  Do  you  still  desire 
to  write  incognito,  or  do  you  wish  your  name  given  to  your 
admirers  ?" 

"  That  is  a  matter  which  I  am  willing  to  leave  to  your 
superior  judgment." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  I  much  prefer  that  you  determine  it  for 
yourself." 

"  Then  you  may  give  my  name  to  those  who  are  sufB- 
ciently  interested  in  me  to  write  and  make  the  inquiry." 

Mr.  Manniug  smiled  slightly,  and  lowered  his  voice  as 
he  said : 

"  Sir  Roger  Percival  came  here  to-jiight  to  be  introduced 
to  you.  He  has  expressed  much  curiosity  to  see  the  author 
of  the  last  article  which  you  contributed  to  the  magazine ; 
and  I  told  him  that  you  would  be  in  my  box  this  evening. 
Shall  I  present  him  now  ?" 

Mr.  Manning  was  rising,  but  Edna  put  her  hand  on  his 
arm,  and  answered  hurriedly: 

"  No,  no  !  He  is  engaged  in  conversation  with  Mrs.  An- 
drews, and,  moreover,  I  believe  I  do  not  particularly  desire 
to  be  presented  to  him." 

"  Here  comes  your  friend ;  I  will  vacate  this  seat  in  his 
favor." 

He  rose,  bowed  to  Gordon  Leigh,  and  gave  him  the  chair 
which  he  had  occupied. 


ST.  ELMO.  335 

"  Edna !  how  I  have  longed  to  see  you  once  more  !" 

Gordon's  hand  seized  hers,  and  his  handsome  face  was 
eloquent  with  feelings  whieh  he  felt  no  inclination  to  con- 
ceal. 

"The  sight  of  your  countenance  is  an  unexpected  pleas- 
are  in  New- York.     Mr.  Leigh,  when  did  you  arrive  ?" 

"This  afternoon.  Mr.  Hammond  gave  me  your  address, 
and  I  called  to  see  you,  but  was  told  that  you  were  here." 

"  How  are  they  all  at  home  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  at  Le  Bocage  or  the  Parsonage  ?" 

"  I  mean  how  are  all  my  friends  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Murray  is  very  well,  Miss  Estelle,  ditto.  Mr.  Ham- 
mond has  been  sick,  but  was  better  and  able  to  preach  be- 
fore I  left.  I  brought  a  letter  for  you  from  him,  but  unfor- 
tunately left  it  in  the  pocket  of  my  travelling  coat.  Edna, 
you  have  changed  very  much  since  I  saw  you  last." 

"  In  what  respect,  Mr.  Leigh  ?" 

The  crash  of  the  orchestra  filled  the  house,  and  people 
turned  once  more  to  the  stage.  Standing  with  his  arms 
folded,  Mr.  Manning  saw  the  earnest  look  on  Gordon's  face 
as,  with  his  arm  resting  on  the  back  of  Edna's  chair,  he  talk- 
ed in  a  low  eager  tone ;  and  a  pitying  smile  partially  curved 
the  editor's  granite  mouth  as  he  noticed  the  expression  of 
pain  on  the  girl's  face,  and  heard  her  say  coldly : 

"  No,  Mr.  Leigh ;  what  I  told  you  then  I  repeat  now. 
Time  has  made  no  change." 

The  opera  ended,  the  curtain  fell,  and  an  enthusiastic 
audience  called  out  the  popular  prima  donna. 

While  bouquets  were  showered  upon  her,  Mr.  Manning 
stooped  and  put  his  hand  on  Edna's : 

"  Shall  I  throw  your  tribute  for  you  ?" 

She  hastily  caught  the  bouquet  from  his  fingers,  and  re- 
plied : 

"  Oh !  no,  thank  you !     I  am  so  selfish,  I  can  not  spare  it." 

"I  shall  call  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  to  deliver  your 
letter,"  said  Gordon,  as  he  stood  hat  in  hand. 


386  ST.  llxo. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Leigh  ' 

He  shook  hands  with  her  and  with  Mr.  Manning,  to  whom 
she  had  introduced  him,  and  left  the  box. 

Sir  Roger  Percival  gave  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Andrews,  and 
the  editor  drew  Edna's  cloak  over  her  shoulders,  took  her 
hand  and  led  her  down  the  steps. 

As  her  little  gloved  fingers  rested  in  his,  the  feeling;  of 
awe  and  restraint  melted  away,  and  looking  into  his  face 
she  said : 

"Mr.  Manning,  \  do  not  think  you  will  ever  know  half 
how  much  I  thank  you  for  all  your  kindness  to  an  unknown 
authorling.  I  have  enjoyed  the  music  very  much  indeed. 
How  is  Lila  to-night  ?' 

A  slight  tremor  crossed  his  lips ;  the  petrified  hawthorn 
was  quivering  into  life. 

"  She  is  quite  well,  thank  you.  Pray  what  do  you  know 
abont  her  ?  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had  ever  mentioned 
her  name  in  your  presence." 

"  My  pupil  Felix  is  her  most  devoted  knight,  and  I  see 
her  almost  every  afternoon  when  I  go  with  the  children  to 
Central  Park." 

They  reached  the  carriage  where  the  Englishman  stood 
talking  to  Mrs.  Andrews,  and  when  Mr.  Manning  had  hand- 
ed Edna  in,  he  turned  and  said  something,  to  Sir  Roger, 
who  laughed  lightly  and  walked  away. 

During  the  ride  Mrs.  Andrews  talked  volubly  of  the  for- 
eigner's ease  and  elegance  and  fastidious  musical  taste,  and 
Mr.  Manning  listened  courteously  and  bowed  coldly  in 
reply.  "When  they  reached  home  she  invited  him  to  dinner 
on  the  following  Thursday,  to  meet  Sir  Roger  Percival. 

As  the  editor  bade  them  good  night,  he  said  to  Edna : 

"  Go  to  sleep  at  once;  do  not  sit  up  to  work  to-night." 

Did  she  follow  his  sage  advice  ?  Ask  of  the  stars  that 
watched  her  through  the  long  winter  night,  and  the  dap- 
pled dawn  that  saw  her  stoopiug  wearily  over  her  desk. 

At  the   appointed  hour  on    the  following  morning  Mr, 


ST.  ELMO.  387 

Leigh  called,  and  after  some  desultory  remarks  he  asked, 
rather  abruptly : 

"Has  St.  Elmo  Murray  written  to  you  about  his  last 
whim  ?" 

"  I  do  not  correspond  with  Mr.  Murray." 

"Every  body  wonders  what  droll  freak  will  next  seize 
him.  Reed,  the  blacksmith,  died  several  months  ago  and, 
to  the  astonishment  of  our  people,  Mr.  Murray  has  taken 
his  orphan,  Huldah,  to  Le  Bocage ;  has  adopted  her  I  be- 
lieve ;  at  all  events,  is  educating  her." 

Edna's  face  grew  radiant. 

"  Oh !  I  am  glad  to  hear  it !  Poor  little  Huldah  needed  a 
friend,  and  she  could  not  possibly  have  fallen  into  kinder 
hands  than  Mr.  Murray's." 

"  There  certainly  exists  some  diversity  of  opinion  on  that 
subject.  He  is  rather  too  grim  a  guardian,  I  fancy,  for  one 
so  young  as  Huldah  Reed." 

"  Is  Mr.  Hammond  teaching  Huldah  ?" 

"  Oh !  no.  Herein  consists  the  wonder.  Murray  himself 
hears  her  lessons,  so  Estelle  told  my  sister.  A  proposf 
rumor  announces  the  approaching  marriage  of  the  cousins. 
My  sister  informed  me  that  it  would  take  place  early  in  the 
spring." 

"  Do  you  allude  to  Mr.  Murray  and  Miss  Harding  ?" 

"  I  do.  They  will  go  to  Europe  immediately  after  their 
marriage." 

Gordon  looked  searchingly  at  his  companion,  but  saw 
only  a  faint  incredulous  smile  cross  her  calm  face. 

"  My  sister  is  Estelle's  confidant,  so  you  see  I  speak  ad- 
visedly. I  know  that  her  trousseau  has  been  ordered  from 
Paris." 

Edna's  fingers  closed  spasmodically  over  each  other,  but 
she  laughed  as  she  answered : 

"  How  then  dare  you  betray  her  confidence  ?  Mr.  Leigh, 
how  long  will  you  remain  in  New-York?" 

"  1  shall  leave  to-morrow,  unless  I  have  reason  to  hope 


SS8  ST.  ELMO. 

that  a  longer  visit  will  give  you  pleasure.     I  came  hera 
solely  to  see  you." 

He  attempted  to  unclasp  her  fingers,  hut  she  shook  off 
his  hand  and  said  quickly : 

"  I  know  what  you  are  ahout  to  say,  and  I  would  rather 
not  hear  what  would  only  distress  us  both.  If  you  wish 
me  to  respect  you,  Mr.  Leigh,  you  must  never  again  allude 
to  a  subject  which  I  showed  you  last  night  was  exceeding- 
ly painful  to  me.  While  I  value  you  as  a  friend,  and  am 
rejoiced  to  see  you  again,  I  should  regret  to  learn  that  you 
had  prolonged  your  stay  even  one  hour  on  my  account." 

"  You  are  ungrateful,  Edna !  And  I  begin  to  realize  that 
you  are  utterly  heartless." 

"  If  I  am,  at  least  I  have  never  trifled  with  or  deceived 
you,  Mr.  Leigh." 

"  You  have  no  heart,  or  you  certainly  could  not  so  coldly 
reject  an  affection  which  any  other  woman  would  proudly 
accept.  A  few  years  hence,  when  your  insane  ambition  is 
fully  satiated,  and  your  beauty  fades,  and  your  writings  pall 
upon  public  taste,  and  your  smooth-tongued  flatterers  for- 
sake your  shrine  to  bow  before  that  of  some  new  and  more 
popular  idol,  then  Edna,  you  will  rue  your  folly." 

She  rose  and  answered  quietly  : 

"  The  future  may  contain  only  disappointments  for  me, 
but  however  lonely,  however  sad  my  lot  may  prove,  I  think 
I  shall  never  fall  so  low  as  to  regret  not  having  married  a 
man  whom  I  find  it  impossible  to  love.  The  sooner  this  in- 
terview ends  the  longer  our  friendship  will  last.  My  time 
is  not  now  my  own,  and,  as  my  duties  claim  me  in  the 
school-room,  I  Avill  bid  you  good-bye." 

"Edna,  if  you  send  me  from  you  now,  you  shall  ne\er 
.ook  upon  my  face  again  in  this  world  1" 

Mournfully  her  tearful  eyes  sought  his,  but  her  voice  waa 
low  and  steady  as  she  put  out  both  hands,  and  said  sol- 
emnly : 

"  Farewell,  dear  friend.     God  grant  that  when  next  wa 


ST.  ELMO.  ggg 

see  each  other's  faces  they  maybe  overshado  yt  I  ..y  the 
shining,  white  plumes  of  our  angel  wings,  in  that  city  of 
God  '  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest.'  '  Never  again  in  this  world,'  ah  !  such 
words  are  dreary  and  funereal  as  the  dull  fall  of  clods  on  a 
coffin-lid  ;  but  so  be  it.  Thank  God !  time  brings  us  all  to 
one  inevitable  tryst  before  the  great,  white  throne." 

He  took  the  hands,  bowed  his  forehead  upon  them  and 
groaned  ;  then  drew  them  to  his  lips  and  left  her. 

"With  a  slow,  weary  step  she  turned  and  went  up  to  her 
room  and  read  Mr.  Hammond's  letter  It  was  long  ana 
kind,  full  of  affection  and  wise  counsel,  but  contained  no 
allusion  to  Mr.  Murray. 

As  she  refolded  it  she  saw  a  slip  of  paper  which  had 
fallen  unnoticed  on  the  carpet,  and  picking  it  up  she  read 
these  words  : 

"  It  grieves  me  to  have  to  tell  you  that,  after  all,  I  fear 
St.  Elmo  will  marry  Estelle  Harding.  He  does  not  love 
her,  she  can  not  influence  him  to  redeem  himself;  his  future 
looks  hopeless  indeed.  Edna,  my  child!  what  have  you 
done  !     Oh  !  what  have  you  done  !" 

Her  heart  gave  a  sudden,  wild  bound,  then  a  spasm 
seemed  to  seize  it,  and  presently  the  fluttering  ceased,  her 
pulses  stopped,  and  a  chili  darkness  fell  upon  her. 

Her  head  sank  heavily  on  her  chest,  and  when  she  recov- 
ered her  memory  she  felt  an  intolerable  sensation  of  suffoca- 
tion, and  a  sharp  pain  that  seemed  to  stab  the  heart,  whose 
throbs  were  slow  and  feeble. 

She  raised  the  window  and  leaned  out  panting  for  breath, 
and  the  freezing  wind  powdered  her  face  with  fine  snow- 
flakes,  and  sprinkled  its  fairy  flower-crystals  over  her 
hair. 

The  outer  world  was  chill  and  dreary,  the  leafless  limbs 
of  the  trees  in  the  park  looked  ghostly  and  weird  against 
the  dense  dun  clouds  which  seemed  to  stretch  like  a  smoke 
mantle  just  above  the  sea  of  roofs  ;  and,  dimly  seen  through 


890  ST.  ELMO. 

the  white  mist,  Brooklyn's  heights  and  Staten's  hills  were 
huge  outlines  monstrous  as  Echidna. 

Physical  pain  blanched  Edna's  lips,  and  she  pressed  her 
hand  repeatedly  to  her  heart,  wondering  what  caused  those 
keen  pangs.  At  last,  when  the  bodily  suffering  passed 
away,  and  she  sat  down  exhausted,  her  mind  reverted  to 
the  sentence  in  Mr.  Hammond's  letter. 

She  knew  the  words  were  not  lightly  written,  and  that 
his  reproachful  appeal  had  broken  from  the  depths  of  his 
aching  heart,  and  was  intended  to  rouse  her  to  some  action. 

"  I  can  do  nothing,  say  nothing  !  Must  sit  still  and  wait 
patiently — prayerfully.  To-day,  if  I  could  put  out  my 
hand  and  touch  Mr.  Murray,  and  bind  him  to  me  for  ever,  I 
would  not.  No,  no  !  Not  a  finger  must  I  lift,  even  be- 
tween him  and  Estelle !  But  he  will  not  marry  her !  I 
know — I  feel  that  he  will  not.  Though  I  never  look  upon 
his  face  again,  he  belongs  to  me  !  He  is  mine,  and  no  other 
woman  can  take  him  from  me." 

A  strange,  mysterious,  shadowy  smile  settled  on  her 
pallid  features,  and  faintly  and  dreamily  she  repeated : 

"  And  yet  I  know  past  all  doubting,  truly — 

A  knowledge  greater  than  grief  can  dim — 
I  know  as  he  loved,  lie  will  love  me  duly, 

Tea,  better,  e'en  better  tban  I  love  him. 
And  as  I  walk  by  the  vast,  calm  river, 

The  awful  river  so  dread  to  see, 
I  say,  '  Thy  breadth  and  thy  depth  for  ever 

Are  bridged  by  his  thoughts  that  cross  to  me.'  " 

Her  lashes  drooped,  her  head  fell  back  against  the  top  of 
the  chair,  and  she  lost  all  her  woes  until  Felix's  voice 
roused  her,  and  she  saw  the  frightened  boy  standing  at  her 
side,  shaking  her  hand  and  calling  piteously  upon  her. 

"  Oh  !  I  thought  you  were  dead  !  You  looked  so  white 
and  felt  so  cold.  Are  you  very  sick  ?  Shall  I  go  for 
mamma  ?" 


tT.  ELMO.  391 

For  a  moment  she  looked  in  his  face  with  a  perplexed, 
bewildered  expression,  then  made  an  effort  to  rise. 

"  I  suppose  that  I  must  have  fainted,  for  I  had  a  ter- 
rible pain  here,  and "      She  laid  her  hand  over  her 

heart. 

"Felix,  let  us  go  down-stairs.  I  think  if  your  mother 
would  give  me  some  wine,  it  might  strengthen  me." 

Notwithstanding  the  snow  Mrs.  Andrews  had  gone  out ; 
but  Felix  had  the  wine  brought  to  the  school-room,  and 
after  a  little  while  the  blood  showed  itself  shyly  in  the  gov- 
erness's white  lips,  and  she  took  the  boy's  Latin  book  and 
heard  him  recite  his  lesson. 

The  day  appeared  wearily  long,  but  she  omitted  none  of  tho 
appointed  tasks,  and  it  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  before  Felix 
fell  asleep  that  night.  Softly  unclasping  his  thin  fingers 
which  clung  to  her  hand,  she  went  up  to  her  own  room,  feel- 
ing the  full  force  of  those  mournful  words  in  Eugenie  de 
Guerin's  Journal : 

"  It  goes  on  in  the  soul.  No  one  is  aware  of  what  I  feel ; 
no  one  suffers  from  it.  I  only  pour  out  my  heart  before 
God — and  here.  Oh!  to-day  what  efforts  I  make  to  shake 
off  this  profitless  sadness — this  sadness  without  tears — arid, 
bruising  the  heart  like  a  hammer !" 

There  was  no  recurrence  of  the  physical  agony ;  and  af- 
ter two  days  the  feeling  of  prostration  passed  away,  and 
only  the  memory  of  the  attack  remained. 

The  idea  of  lionizing  her  children's  governess,  and  intro- 
ducing her  to  soi-disant  "fashionable  society,"  had  taken 
possession  of  Mrs.  Andrews's  mind,  and  she  was  quite  as 
much  delighted  with  her  patronizing  scheme  as  a  child 
would  have  been  with  a  new  hobby-horse.  Dreams  at 
•which  even  Maecenas  might  have  laughed  floated  through 
her  busy  brain,  and  filled  her  kind  heart  with  generous  an- 
ticipations. On  Thursday  she  informed  Edna  that  she  de- 
sired her  presence  at  dinner,  and  urged  her  request  with 
such  pertinacious  earnestness  that  no  alternative  remained 


892  ST.  ELMO. 

but  acquiescence,  and  reluctantly  the  governess  prepared  to 
meet  a  formidable  party  of  strangers. 

When  Mrs.  Andrews  presented  Sir  Roger  Percival,  he 
bowed  rather  haughtily,  and  with  a  distant  politeness, 
which  assured  Edna  that  he  was  cognizant  of  her  refusal 
to  make  his  acquaintance  at  the  opera. 

During  the  early  part  of  dinner  he  divided  his  gay 
words  between  his  hostess  and  a  pretty  Miss  Morton,  who 
was  evidently  laying  siege  to  his  heart,  and  carefully  flat- 
tering his  vanity ;  but  whenever  Edna,  his  vis-d-vis,  looked 
toward  him,  she  invariably  found  his  fine  brown  eyes  scru- 
tinizing her  face. 

Mr.  Manning,  who  sat  next  to  Edna,  engaged  her  in  an 
animated  discussion  concerning  the  value  of  a  small  Volume 
containing  two  essays  by  Buckle,  which  he  had  sent  her  a 
few  days  previous. 

Something  which  she  said  to  the  editor  with  reference  to 
Buckle's  extravagant  estimate  of  Mill,  brought  a  smile  to 
the  Englishman's  lip,  and,  bowing  slightly,  he  said : 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Earl,  if  I  interrupt  you  a  moment  to 
express  my  surprise  at  hearing  Mill  denounced  by  an  Amer- 
ican. His  books  on  Representative  Government  and  Lib- 
erty are  so  essentially  democratic  that  I  expected  only 
gratitude  and  eulogy  from  his  readers  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic." 

Despite  her  efforts  to  control  it,  embarrassment  unstrung 
her  nerves,  and  threw  a  quiver  into  her  voice,  as  she  an- 
swered : 

"I  do  not  presume,  sir,  to  'denounce'  a  man  whom 
Buckle  ranks  above  all  other  living  writers  and  statesmen ; 
but,  in  anticipating  the  inevitable  result  of  the  adoption  of 
some  of  Mill's  proposed  social  reforms,  I  could  not  avoid 
recalling  that  wise  dictum,  of  Frederick  the  Great  concern- 
ing philosophers — a  saying  which  Buckle  quotes  so  trium- 
phantly against  Plato,  Aristotle,  Descartes — even  Bacon, 
Newton,  and  a  long  list  of  names  illustrious  in  the  annals 


ST   ELMO.  393 

of  English  literature.  Frederick  declared  :  if  I  ^  tinted  to 
ruin  one  of  my  provinces,  I  would  make  over  its  government 
to  the  philosophers.'  With  due  deference  to  Buckle's  su- 
perior learning  and  astuteness,  I  confess  my  study  of  Mill's 
philosophy  assures  me  that,  if  society  should  be  turned  over 
to  the  government  of  his  theory  of  Liberty  and  Suffrage,  it 
would  go  to  ruin  more  rapidly  than  Frederick's  province. 
Under  his  teachings  the  women  of  England  might  soon  mar- 
shal their  amazonian  legions,  and  storm  not  only  Parnassus 
but  the  ballot-box,  the  bench,  and  the  forum.  That  this 
should  occur  in  a  country  where  a  woman  nominally  rules, 
and  certainly  reigns,  is  not  so  surprising,  but  I  dread  the 
contagion  of  such  an  example  upon  America." 

"His  influence  is  powerful,  from  the  fact  that  he  nevei* 
takes  up  his  pen  without  using  it  to  break  some  social 
shackles;  and  its  strokes  are  tremendous  as  those  of  the 
hammer  of  Thor.  But  surely,  Miss  Earl,  you  Americans 
can  not  with  either  good  taste,  grace,  or  consistency,  upbraid 
England  on  the  score  of  woman's  rights'  movements  ?" 

"At  least,  sir,  our  statesmen  are  not  yet  attacked  by  this 
most  loathsome  of  political  leprosies.  Only  a  few  crazy 
fanatics  have  fallen  victims  to  it,  and  if  lunatic  asylums 
were  not  frequently  cheated  of  their  dues,  these  would  not 
be  left  at  large,  but  shut  up  together  in  high-walled  inclos- 
ures,  where,  like  Sydney  Smith's  '  graminivorous  metaphy- 
sicians,' or  Reaumur's  spiders,  they  could  only  injure  one 
another  and  destroy  their  own  webs.  America  has  no  Ben- 
tham,  Bailey,  Hare  or  Mill,  to  lend  countenance  or  strength 
to  the  ridiculous  clamor  raised  by  a  few  unamiable  and 
wretched  wives,  and  as  many  embittered,  disappointed,  old 
maids  of  New  England;  whose  absurd  pretensions  and  dis- 
graceful conduct  can  not  fail  to  bring  a  blush  of  shame  and 
smile  of  pity  to  the  face  of  every  truly  refined  American 
woman.  The  noble  apology  which  Edmund  Burke  once  of- 
fered  for  his  countrymen,  always  recurs  to  my  mind  when  I 
hear   these  'women's   conventions'  alluded   to:    'Because 


394  ST.  ELMO. 

half  a  dozen  grasshoppers  under  a  fern  make  the  fie.d  ring 
with  their  importunate  chink,  while  thousands  of  great  cat- 
tle repose  beneath  the  shade  of  the  British  oak,  chew  the  cud, 
and  are  silent,  pray  do  not  imagine  that  those  who  make  the 
noise  are  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  field ;  that,  of  course, 
they  are  many  in  number,  or  that,  after  all,  they  are  other 
than  the  little,  shrivelled,  meagre,  hopping,  though  loud  and 
troublesome  insects  of  the  hour.'  I  think,  sir,  that  the  noble 
and  true  women  of  this  continent  earnestly  believe  that  the 
day  which  invests  them  with  the  elective  franchise  would  be 
the  blackest  in  the  annals  of  humanity,  would  ring  the  death- 
knell  of  modern  civilization,  of  national  prosperity,  social 
morality,  and  domestic  happiness !  and  would  consign  the 
race  to  a  night  of  degradation  and  horror  infinitely  more  ap- 
palling than  a  return  to  primeval  barbarism.  Then  every 
exciting  political  canvass  would  witness  the  revolting  deeds 
of  the  furies  who  assisted  in  storming  the  Tuileries ;  and  repe- 
titions of  scenes  enacted  during  the  French  Revolution, 
which  mournfully  attest  how  terrible  indeed  are  female 
natures  when  once  perverted.  God,  the  Maker,  tenderly 
anchored  womanhood  in  the  peaceful,  blessed  haven  of  home , 
and  if  man  is  ever  insane  enough  to  mar  the  divine  economy, 
by  setting  women  afloat  on  the  turbulent,  roaring  sea  of  poli- 
tics, they  will  speedily  become  pitiable  wrecks.  Sooner  than 
such  an  inversion  of  social  order,  I  would  welcome  even 
Turkish  bondage ;  for  surely  utter  ignorance  is  infinitely  pref- 
erable to  erudite  unwomanliness." 

"  Even  my  brief  sojourn  in  America  has  taught  me  the 
demoralizing  tendency  of  the  doctrine  of  '  equality  of  races 
and  of  sexes ,"  and  you  must  admit,  Miss  Earl,  that  your 
countrywomen  are  growing  dangerously  learned,"  answered 
Sir  Roger,  smiling. 

"  I  am  afraid,  sir,  that  it  is  rather  the  quality  than  the 

quantity  of  their  learning  that    makes  them  troublesome. 

One  of  your  own  noble  seers  has  most  gracefully  declared : 

a  woman  may  always  help  her  husband,'  (or  race,)  '  by 


ST.  ELMO  395 

what  she  knows,  however  little ;  by  what  she  half  knows 
or  misknows,  she  will  only  tease  him.'  I  never  hear  that 
much  abused  word  '  equality '  without  a  shudder ;  and  vis- 
ions of  Cordeliers  and  Versailles  furies.  1  have  no  aristo- 
cratic prejudices,  for  my  grandfather  was  a  blacksmith,  and 
my  father  a  carpenter ;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  '  all  men 
are  born  free  and  equal ;'  and  think  that  two  thirds  of  the 
Athenians  were  only  fit  to  tie  Socrates'  shoes,  and  not  one 
half  of  Rome  worthy  to  play  valet  and  clasp  the  toga  of 
Cato  or  of  Cicero.  Neither  do  I  claim  nor  admit  the 
equality  of  the  sexes,  whom  God  created  with  distinctive 
intellectual  characteristics,  which  never  can  be  merged  or 
destroyed  without  outraging  the  decrees  of  nature,  and 
sapping  the  foundations  of  all  domestic  harmony.  Allow 
me  t6  say,  sir,  in  answer  to  your  remark  concerning  learned 
women,  that  it  seems  to  me  great  misapprehension  exists 
relative  to  the  question  of  raising  the  curriculum  of  female 
education.  Erudition  and  effrontery  have  no  inherent  con- 
nection, and  a  woman  has  an  unquestionable  right  to  im- 
prove her  mind,  ad  infinitum,  provided  she  does  not  barter 
womanly  delicacy  and  refinement  for  mere  knowledge ;  and, 
in  her  anxiety  to  parade  what  she  has  gleaned,  forget  the 
decorum  and  modesty,  without  which  she  is  monstrous  and 
repulsive.  Does  it  not  appear  reasonable  that  a  truly  re- 
fined woman,  whose  heart  is  properly  governed,  should  in- 
crease her  usefulness  to  her  family  and  her  race,  by  increas- 
ing her  knowledge  ?  A  female  pedant  who  is  coarse  and 
boisterous,  or  ambitious  of  going  to  Congress,  or  making 
stump-speeches,  would  be  quite  as  unwomanly  and  unlovely 
in  character  if  she  were  utterly  illiterate.  I  am  afraid  it  is 
not  their  superior  learning  or  ability  which  afflicts  the  nine- 
teenth century  with  those  unfortunate  abnormal  develop- 
ments, familiarly  known  as  '  strong-minded  women ;'  but 
that  it  is  the  misdirection  of  their  energies,  the  one-sided 
nature  of  their  education.  A  woman  who  can  not  be  con- 
tented and  happy  in  the  bosom  of  her  home,  busied  with  or- 


396  ST.  ELMO. 

dinary  womanly  work,  but  fancies  it  is  her  mi&sion  to  prao 
tise  law  or  medicine,  or  go  out  lecturing,  would  be  a  trou- 
blesome, disagreeable  personage  under  all  circumstances; 
and  would  probably  stir  up  quite  as  much  mischief,  while 
using  ungrarnmatical  language,  as  if  she  were  a  perfect  phi- 
lologist. Whom  did  Socrates  find  most  amiable  and  femi- 
nine, learned  Diotima,  or  unlearned  Xantippe  ?  I  think  even 
mankind  would  consent  to  see  women  as  erudite  as  Damo, 
or  Isotta  Nogarola,  provided  they  were  also  as  exemplary 
in  their  domestic  relations,  as  irreproachable  and  devoted 
wives  and  daughters  as  Eponina  and  Chelonis,  Alcestis  and 
Berengaria." 

Sir  Roger  bowed  assent,  and  Mr.  Manning  said : 

"  Very  '  true,  good,  and  beautiful,'  as  a  mere  theory  in  so- 
ciology, but  in  an  age  when  those  hideous  hermaphrotlites, 
ycleped  '  strong-minded  women,'  are  becoming  so  alarming- 
ly numerous,  our  eyes  are  rarely  gladdened  by  a  conjunc- 
tion of  highly  cultivated  intellects,  noble,  loving  hearts,  ten- 
der, womanly  sensibilities.  Can  you  shoulder  the  onus  pro- 
bandi?" 

"  Sir,  that  rests  with  those  who  assert  that  learning  ren- 
ders women  disagreeable  and  unfeminine ;  the  burden  of 
proof  remains  for  you." 

"  Permit  me  to  lift  the  weight  for  you,_Manning,  by  ask- 
ing Miss  Earl  what  she  thinks  of  the  comparative  merits  of 
the  '  Princess,'  and  of  '  Aurora  Leigh,'  as  correctives  of  the 
tendency  she  deprecates  ?" 

Hitherto  the  discussion  had  been  confined  to  the  trio, 
while  the  conversation  was  general,  but  now  silence  reigned 
around  the  table,  and  when  the  Englishman's  question 
forced  Edna  to  look  up,  she  saw  all  eyes  turned  upon  her , 
and  embarrassment  flushed  her  face,  and  her  lashes  drooped 
as  she  answered : 

"  It  has  often  been  asserted  by  those  who  claim  profi 
ciency  in  the  anatomy  of  character,  that  women  are  the 
most  infallible  judges  of  womanly,  and  men  of  manly  na- 


ST.  ELMO.  897 

tures ;  o  it  I  am  afraid  that  the  poems  referre  a.  to  would 
veto  this  decision.  While  I  yield  to  no  human  being  in  ad- 
miration of,  and  loving  gratitude  to  Mrs.  Browning,  and 
regard  the  first  eight  books  of  'Aurora  Leigh'  as  vigorous, 
grand,  and  marvellously  beautiful,  I  can  not  deny  that  a 
painful  feeling  of  mortification  seizes  me  when  I  read  the 
ninth  and  concluding  book,  wherein  'Aurora,'  with  most 
unwomanly  vehemence,  voluntarily  declares  and  reiterates 
her  love  for  '  Roruney.'  Tennyson's  '  Princess '  seems  to  me 
more  feminine  and  refined  and  lovely  than  '  Aurora ;'  and 
it  is  because  I  love  and  revere  Mrs.  Browning,  and  consider 
her  not  only  the  pride  of  her  own  sex,  but  an  ornament  to 
the  world,  that  I  find  it  difficult  to  forgive  the  unwomanly 
inconsistency  into  which  she  betrays  her  heroine.  Allow 
me  to  say  that  in  my  humble  opinion  nothing  in  the  whole 
range  of  literature  so  fully  portrays  a  perfect  woman  as  that 
noble  sketch  by  Wordsworth,  and  the  inimitable  descrip- 
tion in  Rogers's  '  Human  Life.' " 

"  The  first  is,  I  presume,  familiar  to  all  of  us,  but  the  last, 
I  confess,  escapes  my  memory.  Will  you  be  good  enough 
to  repeat  it  ?"  said  the  editor,  knitting  his  brows  slightly. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  it  is  too  long  to  be  quoted  here,  and  it 

seems  that  I  have  already  monopolized  the  conversation 

much  longer  than  I  expected  or  desired.      Moreover,  to 

quote  Rogers  to   an  Englishman  would  be  equivalent  to 

carrying  coal  to  Newcastle,'  or  peddling  '  owls  in  Athens.' " 

Sir  Roger  smiled  as  he  said : 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Earl,  while  you  spoke,  I  was  earnestly  ran- 
sacking my  memory  for  the  passage  to  which  you  allude ; 
but,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  it  is  as  fruitless  an  effort  as  '  call- 
ing spirits  from  the  vasty  deep.'  Pray  be  so  kind  as  to  re- 
peat it  for  me." 

At  that  instant  little  Hattie  crept  softly  to  the  baek  of 
Edua's  chair  and  whispered  : 

"  Bro'  Felix  says,  won't  you  please  come  back  soon,  and 
finish  that  story  where  you. left  off  reading  last  night  ?" 


898  BT.  ELMO. 

Very  glad  to  possess  so  good  an  excuse  the  governess 
rose  at  once ;  but  Mrs.  Andrews  said : 

"  Wait,  Miss  EarL     What  do  you  want,  Hattie  ?" 

"  Bro'  Felix  wants  Miss  Earl,  and  sent  me  to  beg  her  to 
come." 

"  Go  back  and  tell  him  he  is  in  a  hopeless  minority,  and 
that  in  this  country  the  majority  rule.  There  are  fifteen 
here  who  want  to  talk  to  Miss  Earl,  and  he  can't  have  her 
in  the  school-room  just  now,"  said  Grey  Chilton,  slyly  pelt- 
ing his  niece  with  almonds. 

"  But  Felix  is  really  sick  to-day,  and  if  Mrs.  Andrews 
will  excuse  me,  I  prefer  to  go." 

She  looked  imploringly  at  the  lady  of  the  house,  who 
said  nothing ;  and  Sir  Roger  beckoned  Hattie  to  him,  and 
exclaimed : 

"  Pray,  may  I  inquire,  Mrs.  Andrews,  why  your  children 
do  not  make  their  appearance?  I  am  sure  you  need  not 
fear  a  repetition  of  the  sarcastic  rebuke  of  that  wit  who, 
when  dining  at  a  house  where  the  children  were  noisy  and 
unruly,  lifted  his  glass,  bowed  to  the  troublesome  little 
ones,  and  drank  to  the  memoiy  of  King  Herod.  I  am  very 
certain  'the  murder  of  the  innocents '  would  never  be  re- 
called here,  unless — forgive  me,  Miss  Earl !  but  from  the 
sparkle  in  your  eyes,  I  believe  you  anticipate  me.  Do  you 
really  know  what  I  am  about  to  say  ?" 

"  I  think,  sir,  I  can  guess." 

"  Let  me  see  whether  you  are  a  clairvoyant !" 

"  On  one  occasion  when  a  sign  for  a  children's  school  was 
needed,  and  the  lady  teacher  applied  to  Lamb  to  suggest  a 
design,  he  meekly  advised  that  of '  The  Murder  of  the  Inno- 
cents.' Thank  you,  sir.  However,  I  am  not  surprised  that 
you  entertain  such  flattering  opinions  of  a  profession  which 
in  England  boasts  '  Squeers '  as  its  national  type  and  repre- 
sentative." 

The  young  man  laughed  good-humoredly,  and  answered : 

"  For  the  honor  of  my  worthy  pedagogical  countrymen, 


8T.  ELMO.  399 

permit  me  to  assure  you  that  the  aforesaid  'Squeeis'  is  sun 
ply  one  of  Dickens's  inimitable  caricatures." 

"  Nevertheless  I  have  somewhere  seen  the  statement  that 
when  '  Nicholas  Nickleby '  first  made  its  appearance,  only 
six  irate  schoolmasters  went  immediately  to  London,  to 
thrash  the  author ;  each  believing  that  he  recognized  his 
own  features  in  the  amiable  portrait  of '  Squeers.' " 

She  bowed  and  turned  from  the  table,  but  Mrs.  Andrews 
exclaimed : 

"  Before  you  go,  repeat  that  passage  from  Rogers ;  then 
we  will  excuse  you." 

With  one  hand  clasping  Hattie's,  and  the  other  resting 
on  the  back  of  her  chair,  Edna  fixed  her  eyes  on  Mrs.  An- 
drews's face,  and  gave  the  quotation. 

"  His  house  she  enters,  there  to  be  a  light 
Shining  within  when  all  without  is  night ; 
A  guardian-angel  o'er  his  life  presiding, 
Doubling  his  pleasures  and  his  cares  dividing  ; 
Winning  him  back,  when  mingling  in  the  throng, 
From  a  vain  world  we  love,  alas  !  too  long, 
To  fireside  happiness  and  hours  of  ease, 
Blest  with  that  charm,  the  certainty  to  please. 
How  oft  her  eyes  read  his  !   her  gentle  mind 
To  all  his  wishes,  all  his  thoughts  inclined ; 
Still  subject— ever  on  the  watch  to  borrow 
Mirth  of  Ms  mirth,  and  sorrow  of  his  sorrow.** 


CHAPTER  XXVH. 


LOWER  Y  as  Sicilian  meads  was  the  parsonage 
garden  on  that  quiet  afternoon,  late  in  May, 
when  Mr.  Hammond  closed  the  honeysuckle- 
crowned  gate,  crossed  the  street,  and  walked 
slowly  into  the  churchyard,  down  the  sacred  streets  of  the 
silent  city  of  the  dead,  and  entered  the  inclosure  where 
slept  his  white-robed  household  band. 

The  air  was  thick  with  perfume,  as  if  some  strong,  daring 
south  wind  had  blown  wide  the  mystic  doors  of  Astarte's 
huge  laboratory,  and  overturned  the  myriad  alembics,  and 
deluged  the  world  with  her  fragrant  and  subtle  distillations. 
Honey-burdened  bees  hummed  their  hymns  to  labor,  as 
they  swung  to  and  fro ;  and  numbers  of  Psyche-symbols, 
golden  butterflies,  floated  dreamily  in  and  around  and  over 
the  tombs,  now  and  then  poising  on  velvet  wings,  as  if 
waiting,  listening  for  the  clarion  voice  of  Gabriel,  to  rouse 
and  reanimate  the  slumbering  bodies  beneath  the  gleaming 
slabs.  Canary-colored  orioles  flitted  in  and  out  of  the  trail- 
ing willows,  a  red-bird  perched  on  the  brow  of  a  sculptured 
angel  guarding  a  child's  grave,  and  poured  his  sad,  sweet, 
monotonous  notes  on  the  spicy  air;  two  purple  pigeons, 
with  rainbow  necklaces,  cooed  and  fluttered  up  and  down 
from  the  church  belfry,  and,  close  under  the  projecting  roof 
of  the  granite  vault,  a  pair  of  meek  brown  wrens  were  build 
ing  their  nest  and  twittering  softly  one  to  another. 

The  pastor  cut  down  the  rank  grass  and  fringy  ferns,  the 
flaunting  weeds  and  coreopsis  that  threatened  to  choke  hi» 


ST.  ELMO.  401 

more  delicate  flowers,  and,  stooping,  tied  up  the  crimson 
pinks,  and  wound  the  tendrils  of  the  blue-veined  clematis 
around  its  slender  trellis,  and  straightened  the  while  petu- 
nias and  the  orange-tinted  crocaes,  which  the  last  heavy 
shower  had  beaten  to  the  ground. 

The  small,  gray  vault  was  overrun  with  ivy,  whose  dark 
polished  leaves  threatened  to  encroach  on  a  plain  slab  of 
pure  marble  that  stood  very  near  it ;  and  as  the  minister 
pruned  away  the  wreaths,  his  eyes  rested  on  the  black  let- 
ters in  the  centre  of  the  slab :  "  Murray  Hammond.  Aged 
21." 

Elsewhere  the  sunshine  streamed  warm  and  bright  over 
the  graves,  but  here  the  rays  were  intercepted  by  the 
church,  and  its  cool  shadow  rested  over  vault  and  slab  and 
flowers. 

The  old  man  was  weary  from  stooping  so  long,  and  now 
he  took  off  his  hat  and  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead, 
and  sighed  as  he  leaued  against  the  door  of  the  vault, 
where  fine  fairy-fingered  mosses  were  weaving  their  green 
arabesque  immortelles. 

In  a  mournfully  measured,  yet  tranquil  tone,  he  said  aloud : 

"  Ah !  truly,  throughout  all  the  years  of  my  life  I  have 
'never  heard  the  promise  of  perfect  love,  without  seeing 
aloft  amongst  the  stars,  fingers  as  of  a  man's  hand,  writing 
the  secret  legend  :  Ashes  to  ashes  !  dust  to  dust  /'  " 

Age  was  bending  his  body  toward  the  earth  with  which 
it  was  soon  to  mingle ;  the  ripe  and  perfect  wheat  nodded 
lower  and  lower  day  by  day,  as  the  Angel  of  the  Sickle  de- 
layed ;  but  his  noble  face  wore  that  blessed  and  marvellous 
calm,  that  unearthly  peace  which  generally  comes  some 
hours  after  death,  when  all  traces  of  temporal  passions  and 
woes  are  lost  in  eternity's  repose. 

A  low  wailing  symphony  throbbed  through  the  church, 
where  the  organist  was  practising;  and  then  out  of  the  win- 
dows, and  far  away  on  the  evening  ah-,  rolled  the  solemn 
waves  of  that  matchlessly  mournful  Requiem  which,  under 


402  ST.  ELMO. 

projhetia  shadows,  Mozart  began  on  earth  and  haished  per 
haps,  in  heaven,  on  one  of  those  golden  harps  whose  apoca- 
lyptic ringing  smote  St.  John's  eager  ears  among  the  lonely 
rocks  of  iEgean-girdled  Patmos.  The  sun  had  paused  as  if 
to  listen,  on  the  wooded  crest  of  a  distant  hill,  but  as  the 
requiem  ended  and  the  organ  sobbed  itself  to  rest,  he  gath- 
ered up  his  burning  rays  and  disappeared ;  and  the  spotted 
butterflies,  like  "  winged  tulips,"  flitted  silently  away,  and 
the  evening  breeze  bowed  the  large  yellow  primroses,  and 
fluttered  the  phlox ;  and  the  red  nasturtiums  that  climbed 
up  at  the  foot  of  the  slab  shuddered,  and  shook  their  blood- 
colored  banners  over  the  polished  marble.  A  holy  hush  fell 
upon  all  things  save  a  towering  poplar  that  leaned  against 
the  church,  and  rustled  its  leaves  ceaselessly,  and  shivered 
and  turned  white,  as  tradition  avers  it  has  done  since  that 
day,  when  Christ  staggered  along  the  Via  Dolorosa  bearing 
his  cross,  carved  out  of  poplar  wood. 

Leaning  with  his  hands  folded  on  the  handle  of  the  weed 
ing-hoe,  his  gray  beard  sweeping  over  his  bosom,  his  bare, 
silvered  head  bowed,  and  his  mild,  peaceful  blue  eyes  rest- 
ing on  his  son's  tomb,  Mr.  Hammond  stood  listening  to  the 
music ;  and  when  the  strains  ceased,  his  thoughts  travelled 
onward  and  xipward  till  they  crossed  the  sea  of  crystal  be- 
fore the  Throne,  and  in  imagination  he  heard  the  song  of 
the  four  and  twenty  elders. 

From  this  brief  reverie  some  slight  sound  aroused  him, 
and  lifting  his  eyes,  he  saw  a  man  clad  in  white  linen  gar- 
ments, wearing  oxalis  clusters  in  his  coat,  standing  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  monumental  slab. 

"  St.  Elmo  !  my  poor,  suffering  wanderer !  O  St.  Elmo  I 
come  to  me  once  more  before  I  die !" 

The  old  man's  voice  was  thick  with  sobs,  and  his  anna 
trembled  as  he  stretched  them  across  the  grave  that  inter- 
vened. 

Mr.  Murray  looked  into  the  tender,  tearful,  pleading  coun- 
tenance, and  the  anguish  that  seized  his  own,  making  his 


ST.  ELMO.  403 

features  writhe,  beggars  language.  Ht  instinct  vely  put 
out  his  arms,  then  drew  them  back,  and  1  jd  his  face  in  his 
hands ;  saying,  in  low,  broken,  almost  inaudible  tones : 

"I  am  too  unworthy.  Dripping  with  the  blood  of  youi 
children,  I  dare  not  touch  you." 

The  pastor  tottered  around  the  tomb,  and  stood  at  Mr. 
Murray's  side,  and  the  next  moment  the  old  man's  arms 
were  clasped  around  the  tall  form,  and  his  white  hair  fell 
on  his  pupil's  shoulder. 

"  God  be  praised  !  After  twenty  years'  separation  I  hold 
you  once  more  to  the  heart  that,  even  in  its  hours  of  deepest 
sorrow,  has  never  ceased  to  love  you !     St.  Elmo  ! " 

He  wept  aloud,  and  strained  the  prodigal  convulsively  to 
his  breast. 

After  a  moment  Mr.  Murray's  lips  moved,  twitched ;  tears 
dripped  over  his  swarthy  face,  and  with  a  sob  that  shook 
his  powerful  frame  from  head  to  foot,  he  asked : 

"  Will  you  ever,  ever  forgive  me  ?" 

"  God  is  my  witness  that  I  freely  and  fully  forgave  you 
many,  many  years  ago !  The  dearest  hope  of  my  lonely 
life  has  been  that  I  might  tell  you  so,  and  make  you  realize 
how  ceaselessly  my  prayers  and  my  love  have  followed  you 
in  all  your  dreary  wanderings.  Oh !  I  thank  God  that,  at 
last !  at  last  you  have  come  to  me,  my  dear,  dear  boy  !  My 
poor,  proud  prodigal !" 

A  magnificent  jubilate  swelled  triumphantly  through 
church  and  churchyard,  as  if  the  organist  up  in  the  gallery 
knew  what  was  transpiring  at  Murray  Hammond's  grave ; 
and  when  the  thrilling  music  died  away,  St.  Elmo  broke 
from  the  encircling  arms,  and  knelt  with  his  face  shrouded 
in  his  hands  and  pressed  against  the  marble  that  covered 
his  victim. 

After  a  little  while  the  pastor  sat  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  slab,  and  laid  his  shrunken  fingers  softly  and  caressing- 
ly upon  the  bowed  head. 

"  Do  not  dwell  upon  a  past  that  is  fraught  only  with  bit- 


4:04  ST.  ELMO, 

terness  to  you,  and  from  which  yo  i  can  draw  n  d  ba'jn. 
Throw  your  painful  memories  behind  you,  and  turn  reso- 
lutely to  a  future  which  may  be  rendered  noble  and  useful 
and  holy.  There  is  truth,  precious  truth  in  George  Her- 
bert's words : 

■  For  all  may  ha-ve, 
If  they  dare  choose,  a  glorious  life  or  grave  1' 

and  the  years  to  come  may,  by  the  grace  of  God,  more  than 
cancel  those  that  have  gone  by." 

"  What  have  I  to  hope  for — in  time  or  eternity  ?  Oh ! 
none  but  Almighty  God  can  ever  know  the  dreary  blackness 
and  wretchedness  of  my  despairing  soul  i  the  keen,  sleep- 
less agony  of  my  remorse !  my  utter  loathing  of  my  accursed, 
distorted  nature !" 

"And  his  pitying  eyes  see  all,  and  Christ  stretches  out 
his  hands  to  lift  you  up  to  himself,  and  his  own  words  of 
loving  sympathy  and  pardon  are  spoken  again  to  you : 
'  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  weary  and  heavy-laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.1  Throw  all  your  galling  load  of  memories 
down  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  '  the  peace  that  passeth 
all  understanding '  shall  enter  your  sorrowing  soul,  and 
abide  there  for  ever.  St.  Elmo,  only  prayer  could  have  sus- 
tained and  soothed  me  since  we  parted  that  bright  summer 
morning  twenty  long,  long  years  ago.  Prayer  took  away 
the  sting  and  sanctified  my  sorrows  for  the  good  of  my  soul ; 
and,  my  dear,  dear  boy,  it  will  extract  the  poison  and  the  bit- 
terness from  yours.  That  God  answers  prayer  and  comforts 
the  afflicted  among  men,  I  am  a  living  attestation.  It  is 
by  his  grace  only  that  '  I  am  what  I  am ;'  erring  and  un- 
worthy I  humbly  own,  but  patient  at  least,  and  fully  re- 
signed to  his  will.  The  only  remaining  cause  of  disquiet 
passed  away  just  now,  when  I  saw  that  you  had  come  back 
to  me.     St.  Elmo,  do  you  ever  pray  for  yourself?" 

"  For  some  weeks  I  have  been  trying  to  pray,  but  my 
words  seem  a  mockery ;  they  do  not  rise,  they  fall  back  hiss- 
ing upon  my  heart.     I  have  injured  and  insulted  you;  I 


ST.  ELMO.  405 

nave  cursed  you  and  yours,  have  robbed  }ou  o^  your  peac* 
of  mind,  have  murdered  your  children " 

"  Hush !  hush !  we  will  not  disinter  the  dead.  My  peaca 
of  mind  you  have  to-day  given  back  to  me ;  and  the  hope 
of  your  salvation  is  dearer  to  me  than  the  remembered  faces 
of  my  darlings,  sleeping  here  beside  us.  Oh  St.  Elmo !  I 
have  prayed  for  you  as  I  never  prayed  even  for  my  own 
Murray ;  and  I  know,  I  feel  that  all  my  wrestling  before  the 
Throne  of  Grace  has  not  been  in  vain.  Sometimes  my  faith 
grew  faint,  and  as  the  years  dragged  on  and  I  saw  no  melt- 
ing of  your  haughty,  bitter  spirit,  I  almost  lost  hope ;  but  I 
did  not,  thank  God,  I  did  not !  I  held  on  to  the  precious 
promise,  and  prayed  more  fervently,  and,  blessed  be  His 
holy  name  !  at  last,  just  before  I  go  hence,  the  answer  comes. 
As  I  see  you  kneeling  here  at  my  Murray's  grave,  I  know 
now  that  your  soul  is  snatched  'as  a  brand  from  the  burn- 
ing ! '  Oh !  I  bless  my  merciful  God,  that  in  that  day  when 
we  stand  for  final  judgment,  and  your  precious  soul  is  requir- 
ed at  my  son's  hands,  the  joyful  cry  of  the  recording  angel 
shall  be,  Saved  !  saved !  for  ever  and  ever,  through  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb !" 

Overwhelmed  with  emotion,  the  pastor  dropped  his  white 
head  on  his  bosom,  and  wept  unrestrainedly;  and  once  more 
silence  fell  over  the  darkening  cemetery. 

One  by  one  the  birds  hushed  their  twitter  and  went  to 
rest,  and  only  the  soft  cooing  of  the  pigeons  floated  down 
now  and  then  from  the  lofty  belfry. 

On  the  eastern  horizon  a  thin,  fleecy  scarf  of  clouds  was 
silvered  by  the  rising  moon,  the  west  was  a  huge  shrine  of 
beryl  whereon  burned  ruby  flakes  of  vapor,  watched  by  a 
solitary  vestal  star ;  and  the  sapphire  arch  overl  ead  was 
beautiful  and  mellow  as  any  that  ever  vaulted  above  tl  e 
sculptured  marbles  of  Pisan  Canrpo  Santo. 

Mr.  Murray  rose  and  stood  with  his  head  uncovered,  and 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  nodding  nasturtiums  that  glowed  like 
blood-spots. 


406  ST-  ELMO. 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  your  magnanimity  unmans  me ;  and  if 
your  words  be  true,  I  feel  in  your  presence  like  a  leper ; 
and  should  lay  my  lips  in  the  dust,  crying,  'Unclean!  un- 
clean !'  For  all  that  I  have  inflicted  on  you,  I  have  neither 
apology  nor  defence  to  offer;  and  I  could  much  better  have 
borne  curses  from  you  than  words  of  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion. Tou  amaze  me,  for  I  hate  and  scorn  myself  so  thor- 
oughly, that  I  marvel  at  the  interest  you  still  indulge  for 
me ;  I  can  not  understand  how  you  can  endure  the  sight  of 
my  features,  the  sound  of  my  voice.  Oh !  if  I  could  atone  ! 
If  I  could  give  Annie  back  to  your  arms,  there  is  no  suffer- 
ing, no  torture  that  I  would  not  gladly  embrace !  No  pen- 
ance of  body  or  soul  from  which  I  would  shrink !" 

"  My  dear  boy,  (for  such  you  still  seem  to  me,  notwith- 
standing the  lapse  of  time,)  let  my  little  darling  rest  with 
her  God.  She  went  clown  early  to  her  long  home,  and 
though  I  missed  her  sweet  laugh,  and  her  soft,  tender  hands 
about  my  face,  and  have  felt  a  chill  silence  in  my  house, 
where  music  once  was,  she  has  been  spared  much  suffering 
and  many  trials ;  and  I  would  not  recall  her  if  I  could,  for 
after  a  few  more  days  I  shall  gather  her  back  to  my  bosom 
in  that  eternal  land  where  the  blighting  dew  of  death  never 
Mis;  where 

'  Adieus  and  farewells  are  a  sound  unknown.' 

Atone  ?  Ah  St.  Elmo !  you  can  atone.  Save  your  soul,  re- 
deem your  life,  and  I  shall  die  blessing  your  name.  Look 
at  me  in  my  loneliness  and  infirmity.  I  am  childless ;  you 
took  my  idols  from  me,  long,  long,  ago ;  you  left  my  heart 
desolate ;  and  now  I  have  a  right  to  turn  to  you,  to  stretch 
out  my  feeble,  empty  arms,  and  say,  Come,  be  my  child, 
fill  my  son's  place,  let  me  lean  upon  you  in  my  old  age,  as 
I  once  fondly  dreamed  I  should  lean  on  my  own  Murray ! 
St.  Elmo,  will  you  come?  Will  you  give  me  your  heart, 
my  son  !  my  son  I" 

lie  put  out  his  trembling  hands',  and  a  yearning  terder 


ST.  ELMO.  407 

ness  shone  in  his  eyes  as  he  raised  them  to  the  tall,  sterm 
man  before  him. 

Mr.  Murray  bent  eagerly  forward,  and  looked  wonder- 
ingly  at  him. 

"Do  you,  can  you  mean  it?  It  appears  so  impossible, 
and  I  ha\e  been  so  long  sceptical  of  all  nobility  in  my  race. 
Will  you  indeed  shelter  Murray's  murderer  in  your  gener- 
ous, loving  heart  ?" 

"  I  call  my  God  to  witness,  that  it  has  been  my  dearest 
hope  for  dreary  years  that  I  might  win  your  heart  back 
before  I  died." 

"  It  is  but  a  wreck,  a  hideous  ruin,  black  with  sins ;  but 
such  as  I  am,  my  future,  my  all,  I  lay  at  your  feet !  If 
there  is  any  efficacy  in  bitter  repentance  and  remorse ;  if 
there  is  any  mercy  left  in  my  Maker's  hands ;  if  there  be 
saving  power  in  human  will,  I  will  atone !  I  will  atone !" 

The  strong  man  trembled  like  a  wave-lashed  reed,  as  he 
sank  on  one  knee  at  the  minister's  feet,  and  buried  his  face 
in  his  arms;  and  spreading  his  palms  over  the  drooped 
head,  Mr.  Hammond  gently  and  solemnly  blessed  him. 

For  some  time  both  were  silent,  and  then  Mr.  Murray 
stretched  out  one  arm  over  the  slab,  and  said  brokenly : 

"  Kneeling  here  at  Murray's  tomb,  a  strange,  incompre- 
hensible feeling  creeps  into  my  heart.  The  fierce,  burning 
hate  I  have  borne  him  seems  to  have  passed  away;  and 
something,  ah !  something,  mournfully  like  the  old  yearn- 
ing toward  him,  comes  back,  as  I  look  at  his  name.  O 
idol  of  my  youth!  hurled  down  and  crushed  by  my  own 
savage  hands !  For  the  first  time  since  I  destroyed  him, 
since  I  saw  his  handsome  face  whitening  in  death,  I  think 
of  him  kindly.  For  the  first  time  since  that  night,  I  feel 
that — that — I  can  forgive  him.  Murray !  Murray!  you  wrong- 
ed me  !  you  wrecked  me  !  but  oh  !  if  I  could  give  you  back 
the  life  I  took  in  my  madness !  how  joyfully  would  I  for- 
give you  all  my  injuries !  His  blood  dyes  my  hands,  my 
heart,  my  soul !" 


408  ST.  ELMO. 

"The  blood  of  Jesus  will  wash  out  those  stainfc.  The 
law  was  fully  satisfied  when  he  hung  on  Calvary ;  there, 
ample  atonement  was  made  for  just  such  sins  as  yours,  and 
you  have  only  to  claim  and  plead  his  sufferings  to  secure 
your  salvation.  St.  Elmo,  "bury  your  past  here,  in  Murray's 
grave,  and  give  all  your  thoughts  to  the  future.  Half  of 
your  life  has  ebbed  out,  and  yet  your  life-work  remains  un- 
done, untouched.  You  have  no  time  to  spend  in  looking 
over  your  unimproved  years." 

" '  Bury  my  past !'  Impossible,  even  for  one  hour.  I  tell 
you  I  am  chained  to  it,  as  the  Aloides  were  chained  to  the 
pillars  of  Tartarus !  and  the  croaking  fiend  that  will  not 
let  me  sleep  is  memory !  Memory  of  sins  that — that  avenge 
your  wrongs,  old  man  !  that  goad  me  sometimes  to  the 
very  verge  of  suicide !  Do  you  know,  ha !  how  could  you 
possibly  know  ?  Shall  I  tell  you  that  only  one  thought  has 
often  stood  between  me  and  self-destruction  ?  It  was  not 
the  fear  of  death,  no,  no,  no !  It  was  not  even  the  dread 
of  facing  an  outraged  God  !  but  it  was  the  horrible  fear  of 
meeting  Murray!  Not  all  eternity  was  wide  enough  to 
hold  us  both !  The  hate  I  bore  him  made  me  shrink  from 
a  deed  which  I  felt  would  instantly  set  us  face  to  face  once 
more  in  the  land  of  souls.  Ah !  a  change  has  come  over 
me ;  now,  if  I  could  see  his  face,  I  might  learn  to  forget 
that  look  it  wore  when  last  I  gazed  upon  it.  Time  bears 
healing  for  some  natures  ;  to  mine  it  has  brought  only  poi- 
son. It  is  useless  to  bid  me  forget.  Memoiy  is  earth's  re- 
tribution for  man's  sins.  I  have  bought  at  a  terrible  price 
my  conviction  of  the  melancholy  truth,  that  he  who  touches 
the  weapons  of  Nemesis  effectually  slaughters  his  own 
peace  of  mind,  and  challenges  her  maledictions,  from  which 
there  is  no  escape.  In  my  insanity  I  said,  '  Vengeance  is 
mine  !  I  will  repay  !'  and  in  the  hour  when  I  daringly  grasp- 
ed the  prerogative  of  God,  His  curse  smote  me !  Mr.  Ham- 
mond, friend  of  my  happy  youth,  guide  of  my  innocent  boy- 
hood !  if  you  could  know  all  the  depths  of  my  abasement, 


8T.  ELMO.  409 

you  would  pity  me  indeed !  My  miserable  heart  is  like  the 
crater  of  some  extinct  volcano ;  the  flames  of  sin  have  tmrn- 
ed  out,  and  left  it  rugged,  rent,  blackened.     I  do  not  think 

that " 

"  St.  Elmo,  do  not  upbraid  yourself  so  bitterly 


"  Sir,  your  words  are  kind  and  noble  and  full  of  Christian 
charity;  they  are  well  meant,  and  I  thank  you;  but  they 
can  not  comfort  me.  My  desolation,  my  utter  wretchedness 
isolate  me  from  the  sympathy  of  my  race,  whom  I  have  de- 
spised and  trampled  so  relentlessly.  Yesterday  I  read  a 
passage  which  depicts  so  accurately  my  dreary  isolation, 
that  I  have  been  unable  to  expel  it ;  I  find  it  creeping  even 
now  to  my  lips : 

"  '  0  misery  and  mourning !    I  have  felt — 
Yes,  I  have  felt  like  some  deserted  world 
That  God  had  done  with,  and  had  cast  aside 
To  rock  and  stagger  through  the  gulfs  of  space, 
He  never  looking  on  it  any  more  ; 
Untilled,  no  use,  no  pleasure,  not  desired, 
Nor  lighted  on  by  angels  in  their  flight 
From  heaven  to  happier  planets  ;  and  the  race 
That  once  hath  dwelt  on  it  withdrawn  or  dead. 
Could  such  a  world  have  hope  that  some  blest  day 
God  would  remember  her,  and  fashion  her 
Anew  ?' " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  St.  Elmo,  so  surely  as  God  reigns  above 
us,  he  will  refashion  it,  and  make  the  light  of  his  pardon- 
ing love  and  the  refreshing  dew  of  his  grace  fall  upon  it ! 
And  the  waste  places  shall  bloom  as  Sharon,  and  the  pur- 
pling vineyards  shame  Engedi,  and  the  lilies  of  peace  shall 
lift  up  their  stately  heads,  and  the  '  voice  of  the  turtle  shall 
be  heard  in  the  land !'  Have  faith,  grapple  yourself  by 
prayer  to  the  feet  of  God,  and  he  will  gird,  and  lift  up,  and 
guide  you." 

Mr.  Murray  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and  the  moon- 
light shining  on  his  face  showed  it  colorless,  haggard,  hope* 
less.  ' 


410  -ST-  ELMO. 

The  pastor  rose,  put  on  his  hat,  and  took  St.  Elmo's  arm. 

"  Come  home  with  me.  This  spot  is  fraught  witn  painful 
associations  that  open  afresh  all  your  wounds." 

They  walked  on  together  until  they  reached  the  parson- 
age gate,  and  as  the  minister  raised  the  latch,  his  compan- 
ion gently  disengaged  the  arm  clasped  to  the  old  man's  side 

"  Not  to-night.     After  a  few  days  I  will  try  to  come." 

"St.  Elmo,  to-morrow  is  Sunday,  and " 

He  paused,  and  did  not  speak  the  request  that  looked  out 
from  his  eyes. 

It  cost  Mr.  Murray  a  severe  struggle,  and  he  did  not  an- 
swer immediately.     When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  unsteady. 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  you  wish.  Once  I  swore  I  would 
tear  the  church  down,  scatter  its  dust  to  the  winds,  leave 
not  a  stone  to  mark  the  site !  But  I  will  come  and  hear 
you  preach  for  the  first  time  since  that  sunny  Sabbath, 
twenty  years  dead,  when  your  text  was,  '  Oast  thy  bread 
upon  the  waters ;  for  thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days." 
Sodden,  and  bitter,  and  worthless,  from  long  tossing  in  the 
great  deep  of  sin,  it  drifts  back  at  last  to  your  feet ;  and 
instead  of  stooping  tenderly  to  gather  up  the  useless  frag- 
ments, I  wonder  that  you  do  not  spurn  the  stranded  ruin 
from  you.     Yes,  I  will  come." 

"  Thank  God  !  Oh !  what  a  weight  you  have  lifted  from 
my  heart !     St.  Elmo,  my  son !" 

There  was  a  long,  lingering  clasp  of  hands,  and  the  pas- 
tor went  into  his  home  with  tears  of  joy  on  his  furrowed 
face,  while  his  smiling  lips  whispered  to  his  grateful  soul : 

"  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  with- 
hold not  thy  hand ;  for  thou  knowest  not  whether  shall  pros- 
per, either  this  or  that,  or  whether  they  both  shall  be  alike 
good." 

Mr.  Murray  watched  the  stooping  form  until  it  disappear- 
ed, and  then  went  slowly  back  to  the  silent  burying-ground, 
and  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  the  church. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  and  still  he  sat  there,  almost  as 


ST.  ELMO.  4U 

motionless  as  one  of  the  monuments,  while  his  eyes  dwelt, 
as  if  spellbound,  on  the  dark  dull  stain  where  Annie  Ham- 
mond had  rested,  in  days  long,  long  past ;  and  Remorse, 
more  potent  than  Erictho,  evoked  from  the  charnel  house 
the  sweet  girlish  features  and  fairy  figure  of  the  early  dead. 
His  pale  face  was  propped  on  his  hand,  and  there  in  the 
silent  watches  of  the  moon-lighted  midnight,  he  held  com- 
munion with  God  a*  d  his  own  darkened  spirit. 

"  What  hast  thou  wrought  for  Eight  and  Truth, 
For  God  and  man, 
From  the  golden  hours  of  bright-eyed  youth, 
To  life's  mid  span  1" 

His  almost  Satanic  pride  was  laid  low  as  the  dead  in  their 
mouldering  shrouds,  and  ah  Jie  giant  strength  of  his  per« 
verted  nature  was  gathered  up  and  hurled  in  a  new  direc- 
tion. The  Dead  Sea  Past  moaned  and  swelled,  and  hitter 
waves  surged  and  broke  over  his  heart,  but  he  silently  buf- 
feted them ;  and  the  moon  rode  in  mid-heaven  when  he  rose, 
went  around  the  church,  and  knelt  and  prayed,  with  hia 
forehead  pressed  to  the  marble  that  covered  Murray  Ham- 
mond's last  resting  place. 

"  Oh  !  that  the  mist  which  veileth  my  To  Come 
Would,  so  dissolve  and  yield  unto  mine  eyes 
A  worthy  path !     I'd  count  not  wearisome 
Long  toil  nor  enterprise, 

But  strain  to  reach  it ;  ay,  with  wrestlings  stout. 
Is  there  such  path  already  made  to  fit 
The  measure  of  my  foot  ?    It  shall  atone 
For  much,  if  I  at  length  may  light  on  it 
And  know  it  for  mine  own." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


|H !  how  grand  and  beautiful  it  is !  Whenever  I 
look  at  it,  I  feel  exactly  as  I  did  on  Easter-Sun- 
day, when  I  went  to  the  cathedral  to  hear  the 
music.  It  is  a  solemn  feeling,  as  if  I  were  in  a 
holy  place.     Miss  Earl,  what  makes  me  feel  so  ?" 

Felix  stood  in  an  art-gallery,  and  leaning  on  his  crutches 
looked  up  at  Church's  "  Heart  of  the  Andes." 

"  You  are  impressed  by  the  solemnity  and  the  holy  re- 
pose of  nature ;  for  here  you  look  upon  a  pictured  cathe- 
dral, built  not  by  mortal  hands,  but  by  the  architect  of  the 
universe.  Felix,  does  it  not  recall  to  your  mind  something 
of  which  we  often  speak  ?" 

The  boy  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  his  thin, 
sallow  face  brightened. 

"  Yes,  indeed !  You  mean  that  splendid  description 
which  you  read  to  me  from  '  Modern  Painters '  ?  How  fond 
you  are  of  that  passage,  and  how  very  often  you  think  of  it ! 
Let  me  see  whether  I  can  remember  it : 

Slowly  yet  accurately  he  repeated  the  eloquent  tribute  to 
"Mountain  Glory,"  from  the  fourth  volume  of  "Modern 
Painters," 

"  Felix,  you  know  that  a  celebrated  English  poet,  Keats, 
has  said,  '  A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  for  ever ;'  and  as  I  can 
never  hope  to  express  my  ideas  in  half  such  beautiful  lan- 
guage as  Mr.  Ruskin  uses,  it  is  an  economy  of  trouble  to 
quote  his  words.  Some  of  his  expressions  are  like  certain 
songs  which,  the  more  frequently  we  sing  them,  the  more 


ST.  ELMO  413 

valuable  and  eloquent  they  become ;  and  as  we  rarely  learn 
a  fine  piece  of  music  to  be  played  once  or  twise  and  then 
thrown  aside,  why  should  we  not  be  allowed  the  same  privi- 
lege with  verbal  melodies?  Last  week  you  asked  me  to 
explain  to  you  what  is  meant  by  '  aerial  perspective,'  and 
if  you  will  study  the  atmosphere  in  this  great  picture,  Mr. 
Church  will  explain  it  much  more  clearly  to  you  than  I  was 
able  to  do." 

u  Yes,  Miss  Earl,  I  see  it  now.  The  eye  could  travel  up 
and  up,  and  on  and  on,  and  never  get  out  of  that  sky ;  and 
it  seems  to  me  those  birds  yonder  would  fly  entirely  away, 
out  of  sight,  through  that  air  in  the  picture.  But,  Misa 
Earl,  do  you  really  believe  that  the  Chimborazo  in  South- 
America  is  as  grand  as  Mr.  Church's  ?  I  do  not,  because 
I  have  noticed  that  pictures  are  much  handsomer  than  the 
real  things  they  stand  for.  Mamma  carried  me  last  spring 
to  see  some  paintings  of  scenes  on  the  Hudson  river,  and 
when  we  went  travelling  in  the  summer  I  saw  the  very 
spot  where  the  artist  stood, when  he  sketched  the  hills  and 
the  bend  of  the  river,  and  it  was  not  half  so  pretty  as  the 
picture.  And  yet  I  know  God  is  the  greatest  painter.  la 
it  the  far-off  look  that  every  thing  wears  when  painted  ?" 

"  Yes,  the  '  far-off  look,'  as  you  call  it,  is  one  cause  of  the 
effect  you  wish  to  understand ;  and  it  has  been  rather  more 
elegantly  expressed  by  Campbell,  in  the  line : 

'  Tis  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view.' 

1  have  seen  this  fact  exemplified  in  a  very  singular  man- 
ner, at  a  house  in  Georgia,  where  I  was  once  visiting. 
From  the  front-door  I  had  a  very  fine  prospect  or  view  of 
lofty  hills,  and  a  dense  forest,  and  a  pretty  little  town  where 
the  steeples  of  the  churches  glittered  in  the  sunshine,  and 
I  stood  for  some  time  admiring  the  landscape ;  but  present- 
ly, when  I  turned  to  speak  to  the  lady  of  the  house,  I  saw, 
in  the  glass  side-lights  of  the  door,  a  miniature  reflection 
of  the  verv  same  scene  that  was  much  more  beautiful.     J 


414  *R  ELMO. 

was  puzzled,  and  could  not  comprehend  how  the  mere 
fact  of  diminishing  the  size  of  the  various  objects,  by  in- 
creasing the  distance,  could  enhance  their  loveliness;  and 
I  asked  myself  whether  all  far-off  things  were  handsomer 
than  those  close  at  hand  ?  In  my  perplexity  I  went  aa 
usual  to  Mr.  Ruskin,  wondering  whether  he  had  ever  no- 
ticed the  same  thing;  and  of  course  he  had,  and  has  a  noble 
passage  about  it  in  one  of  his  books  on  architecture.  I 
will  see  if  my  memoiy  appreciates  it  as  it  deserves:  'Are 
not  all  natural  things,  it  may  be  asked,  as  lovely  near  as 
far  away  ?  Nay,  not  so.  Look  at  the  clouds,  and  watch 
the  delicate  sculpture  of  their  alabaster  sides  and  the  round- 
ed lustre  of  their  magnificent  rolling.  They  are  meant 
to  be  beheld  far  away ;  they  were  shaped  for  their  place, 
high  above  your  head ;  approach  them,  and  they  fuse  into 
vague  mists,  or  whirl  away  in  fierce  fragments  of  thun- 
derous vapor.'  (And  here,  Felix,  your  question  about 
Chimborr  zo  is  answered.)  '  Look  at  the  crest  of  the  Alps, 
from  the  far-away  plains  over  which  its  light  is  cast,  whence 
human  souls  have  communion  with  it  by  their  myriads. 
The  child  looks  up  to  it  in  the  dawn,  and  the  husbandman 
in  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  the  old  man  in  the 
going  down  of  the  sun,  and  it  is  to  them  all  as  the  celestial 
city  on  the  world's  horizon ;  dyed  with  the  depth  of  heaven 
and  clothed  with  the  calm  of  eternity.  There  was  it  set 
for  holy  dominion  by  Him  who  marked  for  the  sun  his 
journey,  and  bade  the  moon  know  her  going  down.  It 
was  built  for  its  place  in  the  far-off  sky ;  approach  it,  and 
the  glory  of  its  aspect  fades  into  blanched  fearfulness;  its 
pirple  walls  are  rent  into  grisly  rocks,  its  silver  fretwork 
saddened  into  wasting  snow ;  the  storm-brands  of  ages  are 
on  its  breast,  the  ashes  of  its  own  ruin  lie  solemnly  on  its 
white  raiment !'  Felix,  in  rambling  about  the  fields,  you 
will  frequently  l>e  reminded  of  this.  I  have  noticed  that 
the  meadow  m  the  distance  is  always  greener  and  more  vel 
vety,  and  seems  more  thickly  studded  with  flowers,  than 


ST.  ELMO  415 

the  one  I  am  crossing ;  or  the  hill-side  far  away  has  a  gcld- 
en  gleam  on  its  rocky  slopes,  and  the  shadow  spots  are 
softer  and  cooler  and  more  purple  than  those  I  am  climbing 
and  panting  over ;  and  I  have  hurried  on,  and  after  a  little, 
turning  to  look  back,  lo !  all  the  glory  I  saw  beckoning  me 
on  has  flown,  and  settled  over  the  meadow  and  the  hill- 
side that  I  have  passed,  and  the  halo  is  behind !  Perfect 
beauty  in  scenery  is  like  the  mirage  that  you  read  about 
yesterday ;  it  fades  and  flits  out  of  your  grasp,  as  you  travel 
toward  it.  When  we  go  home  I  will  read  you  something 
which  Emerson  has  said  concerning  this  same  lovely  ignis 
fatuus;  for  I  can  remember  only  a  few  words:  'What 
splendid  distance,  what  recesses  of  ineffable  pomp  and  love- 
liness in  the  sunset !  But  who  can  go  where  they  are,  or 
lay  his  hand,  01  plant  his  foot  thereon  ?  Off  they  fall  from 
the  round  world  for  ever  and  ever.'  Felix,  I  suppose  it  is 
because  we  see  all  the  imperfections  and  inequalities  of  ob- 
jects close  at  hand,  but  the  fairy  film  of  air  like  a  silvery 
mist  hides  these  when  at  a  distance ;  and  we  are  charmed 
with  the  heightened  beauties,  which  alone  are  visible." 

Edna's  eyes  went  back  to  the  painting,  and  rested  there ; 
and  little  Hattie,  who  had  been  gazing  up  at  her  governess 
in  curious  perplexity,  pulled  her  brother's  sleeve  and  said : 

"  Bro'  Felix,  do  you  understand  all  that  ?  I  guess  I 
don't ;  for  I  know  when  I  am  hungry,  (and  seems  to  me  I 
always  am ;)  why,  when  I  am  hungry  the  closer  I  get  to 
my  dinner  the  nicer  it  looks !  And  then  there  was  that 
hateful,  spiteful  old  Miss  Abby  Tompkins,  that  mamma 
would  have  to  teach  you  !  Ugh  !  I  have  watched  her  many 
a  time  coming  up  the  street,  (you  know  she  never  would 
ride  in  stages  for  fear  of  pickpockets,)  and  she  always  look- 
ed just  as  ugly  as  far  off  as  I  could  see  her  as  when  she 
came  close  to  me " 

A  hearty  laugh  cut  short  Hattie's  observations  ;  and, 
coming  forward,  Sir  Roger  Percival  put  his  hand  on  her 
head,  saying: 


416  ST.  ELMO. 

"  How  often  children  tumble  down  *  the  step  from  the 
subiime  to  the  ridiculous,'  and  drag  staid,  dignified  folks 
after  them  ?  Miss  Earl,  I  have  been  watching  your  little 
party  for  some  time,  listening  to  your  incipient  art-lecture. 
You  Americans  are  queer  people ;  and  when  I  go  home  I 
shall  tell  Mr.  Ruskin  that  I  heard  a  little  boy  criticising 
•  The  Heart  of  the  Andes,'  and  quoting  from  '  Modern 
Painters.'  Felix,  as  I  wish  to  be  accurate,  will  you  tell  me 
your  age  ?" 

The  poor  sensitive  cripple  imagined  that  he  was  being 
ridiculed,  and  he  only  reddened  and  frowned  and  bit  his 
thin  lips. 

Edna  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  answered  £or 
him. 

"  Just  thirteen  years  old  ;  and  though  Mr.  Ruskin  is  a 
distinguished  exception  to  the  rule  that  '  prophets  are  not 
without  honor,  save  in  their  own  country,'  I  think  he  has 
no  reader  who  loves  and  admires  his  writings  more  than 
Felix  Andrews." 

Here  the  boy  raised  his  eyes  and  asked  : 

"  Why  is  it  that  prophets  have  no  honor  among  their 
own  people  ?  Is  it  because  they  too  have  to  be  seen  from 
a  great  distance  in  order  to  seem  grand  ?  I  heard  mamma 
say  the  o'ther  day  that  if  some  book  written  in  America  had 
only  come  from  England  every  body  would  be  raving  about 
it." 

"  Some  other  time,  Felix,  we  will  talk  of  that  problem 
Hattie,  you  look  sleepy." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  lunch-time  before  we  get  home,"  re- 
plied the  yawning  child. 

Sir  Roger  took  her  by  her  shoulders,  and  shook  her 
gently,  saying : 

"  Come,  wake  up,  little  sweetheart !  How  can  you  get 
sleepy  or  hungry  with  all  these  handsome  pictures  staring 
at  you  from  the  walls  ?" 

The  good-natured  child  laughed ;  but  her  brother,  who 


8T.   ELMO.  41? 

had  an  unconquerable  aversion  to  Sir  Roger's  nugc  whis- 
kers,  curled  his  lips,  and  exclaimed  scornfully : 

"Hattie,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself !    Hungry, 

indeed  !    You  are  almost  as  bad  as  that  English  Lady  — , 

who,  when  her  husband  was  admiring  some  beautiful 
lambs,  and  called  her  attention  to  them,  answered,  'Yes, 
lambs  are  beautiful — boiled  I '  " 

Desirous  of  conciliating  him,  Sir  Roger  replied : 

"  When  you  and  Hattie  come  to  see  me  in  England,  I 
will  show  you  the  most  beautiful  lambs  in  the  United 
Kingdom ;  and  your  sister  shall  have  boiled  lamb  three 
times  a  day,  if  she  washes  it.  Miss  Earl,  you  are  so  fond 
of  paintings  that  you  would  enjoy  a  European  tour  more 
than  any  lady  whom  I  have  met  in  this  country.  I  have 
seen  mile's  of  canvas  in  Boston,  New- York,  and  Philadel- 
phia, but  very  few  good  pictures." 

"  And  yet,  sir,  when  on  exhibition  in  Europe  this  great 
work  here  before  us  received  most  extravagant  praise  from 
trans  Atlantic  critics,  who  are  very  loath  to  accord  merit  to 
American  artists.  If  I  am  ever  so  fortunate  as  to  be  able 
to  visit  Europe,  and  cultivate  and  improve  my  taste,  I  think 
I  shall  still  be  very  proud  of  the  names  of  Allston,  West, 
Church,  Bierstadt,  Kensett,  and  Gifford." 

She  turned  to  quit  the  gallery,  and  Sir  Roger  said  : 

"  I  leave  to-morrow  for  Canada,  and  may  possibly  sail  for 
England  without  returning  to  New-York.  Will  you  allow 
me  the  pleasure  of  driving  you  to  the  Park  this  afternoon  ? 
Two  months  ago  you  refused  a  similar  request,  but  since 
then  I  flatter  myself  we  have  become  better  friends." 

"Thank  you,  Sir  Roger  I  presume  the  children  can 
spare  me,  and  I  will  go  with  pleasure." 

"  I  will  call  at  five  o'clock." 

He  handed  her  and  Hattie  into  the  coupe,  tenderly  as- 
sisted Felix,  and  saw  them  driven  away. 

Presently  Felix  laughed,  and  exclaimed  : 

'■*  Oh  !  I  hope  Miss  Morton  will  be  in  the  Park  this  even 


418  ST.  ELMO. 

ing:  It  would  be  glorious  fun  to  see  her  meet  you  and  Sii 
Roger." 

"Why,  Felix  ?" 

"  Oh  !  because  she  meddles.  I  heard  Uncle  Grey  tell 
mamma  that  she  was  making  desperate  efforts  to  catch  the 
Englishman ;  and  that  she  turned  up  her  nose  tremendously 
at  the  idea  of  his  visiting  you.  When  Uncle  Grey  told  her 
how  often  he  came  to  our  house,  she  bit  her  lips  almost  till 
the  blood  spouted.  Sir  Roger  drives  very  fine  horses, 
uncle  says,  and  Miss  Morton  hints  outrageously  for  him  to 
ask  her  to  ride,  but  she  can't  manage  to  get  the  invitation. 
So  she  will  be  furious  when  she  sees  you  this  afternoon. 
Yonder  is  Goupil's  ;  let  us  stop  and  have  a  look  at  those 
new  engravings  mamma  told  us  about  yesterday.  Hattie, 
you  can  curl  up  in  your  corner,  and  go  to  sleep  and  dream 
of  boiled  lamb  till  we  come  back." 

Later  in  the  day  Mrs.  Andrews  went  up  to  Edna's  room, 
and  found  her  correcting  an  exercise. 

"  At  work  as  usual.  You  are  incorrigible.  Any  other 
woman  would  be  so  charmed  with  her  conquest  that  her 
head  would  be  quite  turned  by  a  certain  pair  of  brown 
eyes  that  are  considered  irresistible.  Come,  get  ready  for 
your  drive ;  it  is  almost'  five  o'clock,  and  you  know  foreign- 
ers are  too  polite,  too  thoroughly  well-bred  not  to  be  punc- 
tual. No,  no,  Miss  Earl ;  not  that  hat,  on  the  peril  of  your 
life !  Where  is  that  new  one  that  I  ordered  sent  up  to  you 
two  days  ago?  It  will  match  this  delicate  white  shawl  of 
mine,  which  I  brought  up  for  you  to  wear  ;  and  come,  no 
scruples  if  you  please  !  Stand  up  and  let  me  see  whether 
its  folds  hang  properly.     You  should  have  heard  Madame 

De  G when  she   put  it  around  my  shoulders  for  the 

first  time,  '  Juste  del  !  Madame  Andrews,  you  are  a  Greek 
statue  !'  Miss  Earl,  put  your  hair  back  a  little  from  the 
left  temple.  There,  now  the  veins  show !  Where  are  your 
gloves  ?  You  look  charmingly,  my  dear ;  only  too  pale, 
too  pale  !    If  you  don't  contrive  to  get  up  some  color,  people 


8T.  ELMC,  419 

will  swear  that  Sir  Roger  was  airing  the  ghost  of  a  pretty 
girl.  There  is  the  bell !  Just  as  I  told  you,  he  is  punctual. 
Five  o'clock  to  a  minute." 

She  stepped  to  the  window,  and  looked  down  at  the 
equipage  before  the  door. 

"  What  superb  horses  !  You  will  be  the  envy  of  the 
city." 

There  was  something  in  the  appearance  and  manner  of 
Sir  Roger  which  often  reminded  Edna  of  Gordon  Leigh ; 
and  during  the  spring  he  visited  her  so  constantly,  sent  her 
so  frequently  baskets  of  elegant  flowers,  that  he  succeeded 
in  overcoming  her  reticence,  and  established  himself  on  an 
exceedingly  friendly  footing  in  Mrs.  Andrews's  house. 

Now,  as  they  drove  along  the  avenue  and  entered  the 
Park,  their  spirits  rose ;  and  Sir  Roger  turned  very  often 
to  look  at  the  fair  face  of  his  companion,  which  he  found 
more  and  more  attractive  each  day.  He  saw  too  that  under 
his  earnest  gaze  the  faint  color  deepened,  until  her  cheeks 
glowed  like  sea-shells ;  and  when  he  spoke  he  bent  his  face 
much  nearer  to  hers  than  was  necessary  to  make  her  hear 
his  words.  They  talked  of  books,  flowers,  music,  mountain 
scenery,  and  the  green  lanes  of  "  Merry  England."  Edna 
was  perfectly  at  ease,  and  in  a  mood  to  enjoy  every  thing. 

They  dashed  on,  and  the  sunlight  disappeared,  and  the 
gas  glittered  all  over  the  city  before  Sir  Roger  turned  his 
horses'  heads  homeward.  When  they  reached  Mrs.  An- 
drews's door  he  dismissed  his  carriage  and  spent  the  even- 
ing.    At  eleven  o'clock  he  rose  to  say  good-bye. 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  renewing 
our  acquaintance  at  an  early  day ;  if  not  in  America  in 
Europe.  The  brightest  reminiscences  I  shall  carry  across 
the  ocean  are  those  that  cluster  about  the  hours  I  have 
spent  with  you.  If  I  should  not  return  to  New-York,  will 
you  allow  me  the  privilege  of  hearing  from  you  occasion- 
ally?" 

His  clasp  of  the  girl's  hand  was  close,  but  she  withdrew 
it,  and  her  face  flushed  painfully  as  she  answered : 


420  ST.  ELMO. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  Sir  Roger,  when  I  tell  yoi.  that  1 
am  so  constantly  occupied  I  have  not  time  to  write  even  to 
my  old  and  dearest  friends." 

Passing  the  door  of  Felix's  room,  on  her  way  to  her  owp 
apartment,  the  boy  called  to  her :  u  Miss  Earl,  are  you  very 
tired  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no.     Do  you  want  any  thing  ?" 

u  My  head  aches,  and  I  can't  go  to  sleep.  Please  read  to 
me  a  little  while." 

He  raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  and  looked  up  fondly  at 
her. 

"Ah !  how  very  pretty  you  are  to-night !  Kiss  me,  won't 
you  ?" 

She  stooped  and  kissed  the  poor  parched  lips,  and  as  she 
opened  a  volume  of  the  Waverley  Novels,  he  said : 

"  Did  you  see  Miss  Morton  ?" 

"  Yes ;  she  was  on  horseback,  and  we  passed  her  twice." 

"  Glad  of  it !  She  does  not  like  you.  I  guess  she  finds 
it  as  hard  to  get  to  sleep  to-night  as  I  do." 

Edna  commenced  reading,  and  it  was  nearly  an  hour  be- 
fore Felix's  eyes  closed,  and  his  fingers  relaxed  their  grasp 
of  hers.  Softly  she  put  the  book  back  on  the  shelf,  extin- 
guished the  light,  and  stole  up-stairs  to  her  desk.  That 
night,  as  Sir  Roger  tossed  restlessly  on  his  pillow,  thinking 
of  her,  recalling  all  that  she  had  said  during  the  drive,  he 
would  not  have  been  either  comforted  or  flattered  by  a 
knowledge  of  the  fact  that  she  was  so  entirely  engrossed 
by  her  ms.  that  she  had  no  thought  of  him  or  his  impending 
departure. 

When  the  clock  struck  three  she  laid  down  her  pen  ;  and 
the  mournful  expression  that  crept  into  her  eyes  told  that 
memory  was  busy  with  the  past  yeaij.  When  she  fell 
asleep  she  dreamed  not  of  Sir  Roger  but  of  Le  Bocage  and 
its  master,  of  whom  she  would  not  permit  herself  to  think 
in  her  waking  hours. 

The  influence  which  Mr.  Manning  exerted  over  Edna  in 


JST.  ELMO.  42] 

creased  as  their  acquaintance  ripened;  and  the  admiring 
reverence  with  which  she  regarded  the  editor  was  exceed- 
ingly flattering  to  him.  With  curious  interest  he  watched 
the  expansion  of  her  mind,  and  now  and  then  warned  her 
of  some  error  into  which  she  seemed  inclined  to  plunge,  or 
wisely  advised  some  new  branch  of  research. 

So  firm  was  her  confidence  in  his  mature  and  dispassion 
ate  judgment,  that  she  yielded  to  his  opinions  a  deferential 
homage,  such  as  she  had  scarcely  paid  even  to  Mr.  Ham- 
mond. 

Gradually  and  unconsciously  she  learned  to  lean  upon  his 
strong,  clear  mind,  and  to  find  in  his  society  a  quiet  but 
very  precious  happiness.  The  antagonism  of  their  charac- 
ters was  doubtless  one  cause  of  the  attraction  which  each 
found  in  the  other,  and  furnished  the  balance-wheel  which 
both  required. 

Edna's  intense  and  dreamy  idealism  demanded  a  check, 
which  the  positivism  of  the  editor  supplied ;  and  his  exten- 
sive and  rigidly  accurate  information,  on  almost  all  scientific 
topics,  constituted  a  valuable  thesaurus  of  knowledge  to 
which  he  never  denied  her  access. 

His  faith  in  Christianity  was  like  his  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  mathematics,  more  an  intellectual  process  and  the 
careful  deduction  of  logic  than  the  result  of  some  emotional 
impulse  ;  his  religion  like  his  dialectics  was  cold,  consistent, 
irreproachable,  unanswerable.  Never  seeking  a  controversy 
on  any  subject  he  never  shunned  one,  and,  during  its  con- 
tinuance, his  demeanor  was  invariably  courteous  but  un- 
yielding, and  even  when  severe  he  was  rarely  bitter. 

Very  early  in  life  his  intellectual  seemed  to  have  swal- 
lowed up  his  emotional  nature,  as  Aaron's  rod  did  those  of 
the  magicians  of  Pharaoh,  and  only  the  absence  of  dogma- 
tism, and  the  habitual  suavity  of  his  manner  atoned  for  hia 
unbending  obstinacy  on  all  points. 

Edna's  fervid  and  beautiful  enthusiasm  surged  and  chafed 
and  broke  over  this  man's  stern,  flinty  realism,  like  the 


±22  ST-  ELM0- 

warm,  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf  Stream  that  throw  ihtir 
silvery  spray  and  foam  against  the  glittering  walls  of  sap- 
phire icebergs  sailing  slowly  southward.  Her  glowing  im- 
agery fell  upon  the  bristling  points  of  his  close  phalanx  oi 
arguments,  as  gorgeous  tropical  garlands  caught  and  em- 
paled by  bayonets  until  they  faded. 

Merciless  as  an  anatomical  lecturer,  he  would  smilingly 
take  up  one  of  her  metaphors  and  dissect  it,  and  over  the 
pages  of  her  mss.  for  "  Maga  "  his  gravely  spoken  criticisms 
fell  withering  as  hoar-frost. 

They  differed  in  all  respects,  yet  daily  they  felt  the  need 
of  each  other's  society.  The  frozen  man  of  forty  sunned 
himself  in  the  genial  presence  of  a  lovely  girl  of  nineteen, 
and  in  the  dawn  of  her  literary  career  she  felt  a  sense  of 
security  from  his  proffered  guidance,  even  as  a  wayward 
and  ambitious  child,  just  learning  to  walk,  totters  along 
with  less  apprehension  when  the  strong,  steady  hand  it  re- 
fuses to  hold  is  yet  near  enough  to  catch  and  save  from  a 
serious  fall. 

While  fearlessly  attacking  all  heresy,  whether  political, 
scientific,  or  ethical,  all  latitudinarianism  in  manners  and 
sciolism  in  letters,  he  commanded  the  confidence  and  esteem 
of  all,  and  became  in  great  degree  the  centre  around  which 
the  savants  and  literati  of  the  city  revolved. 

Through  his  influence  Edna  made  the  acquaintance  of 
some  of  the  most  eminent  scholars  and  artists  who  formed 
this  clique,  and  she  found  that  his  friendship  and  recom- 
mendation was  an  "  open  sesame  "  to  the  charmed  circle. 

One  Saturday  Edna  sat  with  her  bonnet  on,  waiting  for 
Mr.  Manning,  who  had  promised  to  accompany  her  on  her 
first  visit  to  Greenwood,  and,  as  she  put  on  her  gloves,  Fe- 
lix handed  her  a  letter  which  his  father  had  just  brought  up. 

Recognizing  Mrs.  Murray's  writing  the  governess  read  it 
immediately,  and,  while  her  eyes  ran  over  the  sheet,  an  ex- 
pression, first  of  painful  then  of  joyful  surprise,  came  inte 
her  countenance. 


ST.  ELMO  428 

"My  dear  child,  doubtless  you  will  be  amazed  to  hear 
that  your  quondam  lover  has  utterly  driven  your  image 
from  his  fickle  heart ;  and  that  he  ignores  your  existence  as 
completely  as  if  you  were  buried  twenty  feet  in  the  ruins 
of  Herculaneum.  Last  night  Gordon  Leigh  was  married  to 
Gertrude  Powell,  and  the  happy  pair,  attended  by  that  de- 
spicable mother,  Agnes  Powell,  will  set  out  for  Europe 
early  next  week.  My  dear,  it  is  growing  fashionable  to 
4  marry  for  spite.'  I  have  seen  two  instances  recently,  and 
know  of  a  third  which  will  take  place  ere  long.  Poor  Gor- 
don will  rue  his  rashness,  and,  before  the  year  expires,  he 
will  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  he  is  an  unmitigated  fool, 
and  has  simply  performed,  with  great  success,  an  operation 
familiarly  known  as  cutting  off  one's  nose  to  spite  one's 
face  !  Your  rejection  of  his  renewed  offer  piqued  him  be- 
yond expression,  and  wdien  he  returned  from  New- York  he 
was  in  exactly  the  most  accommodating  frame  of  mind 
which  Mrs.  Powell  could  desire.  She  immediately  laid 
siege  to  him.  Gertrude's  undisguised  preference  for  his  so- 
ciety was  extremely  soothing  to  his  vanity  which  you  had 
so  severely  wounded,  and  in  fine,  the  indefatigable  ma- 
noeuvres of  the  wily  mamma,  and  the  continual  flattery  of 
the  girl,  who  is  really  very  pretty,  accomplished  the  result. 
I  once  credited  Gordon  with  more  sense  than  he  has  mani- 
fested, but  each  year  convinces  me  more  firmly  of  the  truth 
of  my  belief  that  no  man  is  proof  against  the  subtle  and 
persistent  flattery  of  a  beautiful  woman.  When  he  an- 
nounced his  engagement  to  me, we  were  sitting  in  the  libra- 
ry, and  I  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  answered  :  '  In- 
deed !  Engaged  to  Miss  Powell  ?  I  thought  you  swcime 
that  so  long  as  Edna  Earl  remained  unmarried  you  would 
never  relinquish  your  suit  ?'  He  pointed  to  that  lovely 
statuette  of  Pallas  that  stands  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  said 
bitterly,  '  Edna  Earl  has  no  more  heart  than  that  marble 
Athena.'  Whereupon  I  replied,  'Take  care,  Gordon,  I 
notice  that  of  late  you  seem  inclined  to  deal  rather  too 


424  ST.  ELMO. 

freely  iu  hyperbole.  Edna's  heart  may  resemlile  the  rich 
veins  of  gold,  which  in  some  mines  run  not  near  the  surface 
but  deep  in  the  masses  of  quartz.  Because  you  can  not  ob- 
tain it,  you  Lave  no  right  to  declare  that  it  does  not  exist. 
You  will  probably  live  to  hear  some  more  fortunate  suitor 
shout  Eureka!  over  the  treasure.'  He  turned  pale  as  the 
Pallas  and  put  his  hand  over  his  face.  Then  I  said,  '  Gor- 
don, my  young  friend,  I  have  always  been  deeply  interested 
in  your  happiness ;  tell  me  frankly,  do  you  love  this  girl 
Gertrude  ?'  He  seemed  much  embarrassed,  but  finally 
made  his  confession  :  '  Mrs.  Murray,  I  believe  I  shall  be 
fond  of  her  after  a  while.  She  is  very  lovely,  and  deeply, 
deeply  attached  to  me,  (vanity  you  see,  Edna,)  and  I  am 
grateful  for  her  affection.  She  will  brighten  my  lonely 
home,  and  at  least  I  can  be  proud  of  her  rare  beauty.  But 
I  never  expect  to  love  any  woman  as  I  loved  Edna  Earl.  I 
can  pet  Gertrude,  I  should  have  worshipped  my  first  love, 
my  proud,  gifted,  peerless  Edna  !  Oh  !  she  will  never  real- 
ize all  she  threw  away  when  she  coldly  dismissed  me.'  Poor 
Gordon  !  Well,  he  is  married  ;  but  his  bride  might  have 
found  cause  of  disquiet  in  his  restless,  abstracted  manner  on 
the  evening  of  his  wedding.  -What  do  you  suppose  was  St. 
Elmo's  criticism  on  this  matrimonial  mismatch  ?  '  Poor 
devil !  Before  a  year  rolls  over  his  Iread  he  will  feel  like 
plunging  into  the  Atlantic,with  Plymouth  Rock  for  a  neck- 
lace !  Leigh  deserves  a  better  fate,  and  I  would  rather  see 
him  tied  to  wild  horses  and  dragged  across  the  Andes.' 
These  pique  marriages  are  terrible  mistakes  ;  so,  my  dear,  I 
trust  you  will  duly  repent  of  your  cruelty  to  poor  Gor- 
don." 

As  Edna  put  the  letter  in  her  pocket,  she  wondered 
whether  Gertrude  really  loved  her  husband,  or  whether 
chagrin  at  Mr.  Murray's  heartless  desertion  had  not  goaded 
the  girl  to  accept  Mr.  Leigh. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,  Mr.  Murray  was  correct  in  his  esti« 
mate  of  her  character,  when  he  said  that  she  was  a  mere 


ST.  ELMO.  425 

child,  and  was  capable  of  no  very  earnest  affection.  I  t  ope 
so — I  hope  so." 

Edna  sighed  as  she  tried  to  assure  herself  of  the  proba- 
bility that  the  newly  married  pair  would  become  more  at- 
tached as  time  passed ;  and  her  thoughts  returned  to  that 
paragraph  in  Mrs.  Murray's  letter  which  seemed  intention- 
ally mysterious,  "  I  know  of  a  third  instance  which  will 
take  place  ere  long." 

Did  she  allude  to  her  son  and  her  niece  ?  Edna  could 
not  believe  this  possible,  and  shook  her  head  at  the  sugges- 
tion ;  but  her  lips  grew  cold,  and  her  fingers  locked  each 
other  as  in  a  clasp  of  steel. 

When  Mr.  Manning  called,  and  assisted  her  into  the  car- 
riage, he  observed  an  unusual  preoccupancy  of  mind;  but 
after  a  few  desultory  remarks  she  rallied,  gave  him  her  un- 
divided attention,  and  seemed  engrossed  by  his  conversation. 

It  was  a  fine,  sunny  day,  bright  but  cool,  with  a  fresh 
and  stiffening  west  wind  rippling  the  waters  of  the  harbor. 

The  week  had  been  one  of  unusual  trial,  for  Felix  was 
sick,  and  even  more  than  ordinarily  fretful  and  exacting ; 
and  weary  of  writing  and  of  teaching  so  constantly,  the 
governess  enjoyed  the  brief  season  of  emancipation. 

Mr.  Manning's  long  residence  in  the  city  had  familiarized 
him  with  the  beauties  of  Greenwood,  and  the  history  of 
many  who  slept  dreamlessly  in  the  costly  mausoleums 
which  they  paused  to  examine  and  admire ;  and  when  at 
last  he  directed  the  driver  to  return,  Edna  sank  back  in  one 
corner  of  the  carriage  and  said :  "  Sc  me  morning  I  will 
come  with  the  children  and  spend  the  entire  day." 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  her  thoughts  travelled  swiftly  to 
that  pure  white  obelisk  standing  in  the  shadow  of  Lookout ; 
and  melancholy  memories  brought  a  sigh  to  her  lips  and  a 
slight  cloud  to  the  face  that  for  two  hours  past  had  been  sin- 
gularly bright  and  animated.  The  silence  had  lasted  some 
minutes,  when  Mr.  Manning,  who  was  gazing  abstractedly 
out  of  the  window,  turned  to  his  companion  and  said: 


426  ST.  ELMO. 

"  You  look  pale  and  badly  to-day." 

"  I  have  not  felt  as  strong  as  usual,  and  it  is  a  gre^t  tieat 
to  get  away  from  the  school-room  and  out  into  the  open  air, 
which  is  bracing  and  delightful.  I  believe  I  have  enjoyed 
this  ride  more  than  any  I  have  taken  since  I  came  North  ; 
and  you  must  allow  me  to  tell  you  how  earnestly  I  thank 
you  for  your  considerate  remembrance  of  me." 

"  Miss  Earl,  what  I  am  about  to  say  will  perhaps  seem 
premature,  and  will  doubtless  surprise  you;  but  I  beg  you 
to  believe  that  it  is  the  result  of  mature  deliberation " 

He  paused  and  looked  earnestly  at  her. 

"  You  certainly  have  not  decided  to  give  up  the  editor- 
ship of  '  Maga,'  as  you  spoke  of  doing  last  winter  ?  It 
would  not  survive  your  desertion  six  months." 

"  My  allusion  was  to  yourself,  not  to  the  magazine,  which 
I  presume  I  shall  edit  as  long  as  I  live.  Miss  Earl,  this 
state  of  affairs  can  not'  continue.  You  have  no  regard  for 
your  health,  which  is  suffering  materially,  and  you  are  de- 
stroying yourself.  You  must  let  me  take  care  of  you,  and 
save  you  from  the  ceaseless  toil  in  which  you  are  rapidly 
wearing  out  your  life.  To  teach,  as  you  do,  all  day,  and 
then  sit  up  nearly  all  night  to  write,  would  exhaust  a  con- 
stitution of  steel  or  brass.  You  are  probably  not  aware  of 
the  great  change  which  has  taken  place  in  your  appearance 
during  the  last  three  months.  Hitherto  circumstances  may 
have  left  you  no  alternative,  bxit  one  is  now  offered  you. 
My  property  is  sufficient  to  render  you  comfortable.  I  have 
already  purchased  a  pleasant  home,  to  which  I  shall  remove 
next  week,  and  I  want  you  to  share  it  with  me — to  share 
my  future — all  that  I  have.  You  have  known  me  scarcely 
a  year,  but  you  are  not  a  stranger  to  my  character  or  posi- 
tion, and  I  think  that  you  repose  implicit  confidence  in  me. 
Notwithstanding  the  unfortunate  disparity  in  our  years, 
I  believe  we  are  becoming  mutually  dependent  on  each 
other,  and  in  your  society  I  find  a  charm  such  as  no  other 
human  being  possesses  ;  though  I  have  no  right  to  expect 


ST.  ELMO.  427 

(hat  a  girl  of  your  age  can  derive  equal  pleasure  from  tha 
companionship  of  a  man  old  enough  to  be  her  father  1  o,rn 
not  demonstrative,  but  my  feelings  are  warm  and  deep ; 
and  however  incredulous  you  may  be,  I  assure  you  that  you 
ai*e  the  first,  the  only  woman  I  have  ever  asked  to  be  my 
wife.  I  have  known  many  who  were  handsome  and  intel 
lectual,  whose  society  I  have  really  enjoyed,  but  not  one, 
until  I  met  you,  whom  I  would  have  married.  To  you  alone 
am  I  willing  to  intrust  the  education  of  my  little  Lila.  She 
was  but  six  months  old  when  we  were  wrecked  off  Barne- 
gat,  and,  in  attempting  to  save  his  wife,  my  brother  was 
lost.  With  the  child  in  my  arms  I  clung  to  a  spar,  and 
finally  swam  ashore ;  and  since  then,  regarding  her  as  a  sa- 
cred treasure  committed  to  my  guardianship,  I  have  faith- 
fully endeavored  to  supply  her  father's  place.  There  is  a 
singular  magnetism  about  you,  Edna  Earl,  which  makes 
me  wish  to  see  your  face  always  at  my  hearthstone ;  and 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  want  to  say  to  the  world, 
*  This  woman  wears  my  name,  and  belongs  to  me  for  ever !' 
You  are  inordinately  ambitious ;  I  can  lift  you  to  a  position 
that  will  fully  satisfy  you,  and  place  you  above  the  neces- 
sity of  daily  labor — a  position  of  happiness  and  ease,  where 
your  genius  can  properly  develop  itself.  Can  you  consent 
to  be  Douglass  Manning's  wife  ?" 

There  was  no  more  tremor  in  his  voice  than  in  the  mea- 
sured beat  of  a  base  drum ;  and  in  his  granite  face  not  a 
feature  moved,  not  a  muscle  twitched,  not  a  nerve  quivered. 

So  entirely  unexpected  was  this  proposal  that  Edna  could 
not  utter  a  word.  The  idea  that  he  could  ever  wish  to 
marry  any  body  seemed  incredible,  and  that  he  should  need 
her  society,  appeared  utterly  absurd.  For  an  instant  she 
wondered  if  she  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  soft,  luxurious  cor- 
ner of  the  carriage,  and  dreamed  it  all. 

Completely  bewildered,  she  sat  looking  wonderingly  at 
him. 

"  Miss  Earl,  you  do  not  seem  to  comprehend  me,  and  yet 


428  ST.  ELMO. 

my  words  are  certainly  very  explicit.     Once  mere  I  ask 
you,  can  you  put  your  hand  in  mine  and  be  my  wife  ?" 

lie  laid  one  hand  on  hers,  and  with  the  other  pushed 
hack  his  glasses. 

Withdrawing  her  hands,  she  covered  her  face  with  them, 
aud  answered  almost  inaudibly  : 

"  Let  me  think — for  you  astonish  me." 

"  Take  a  day,  or  a  week,  if  necessary,  for  consideration, 
and  then  give  me  your  answer." 

Mi*.  Manning  leaned  back  in  the  carriage,  folded  his 
hands  over  each  other,  and  looked  quietly  out  of  the  win- 
dow ;  and  for  a  half  hour  silence  reigned. 

Brief  but  severe  was  the  struggle  in  Edna's  heart.  Prob- 
ably no  woman's  literary  vanity  and  ambition  has  ever 
been  more  fully  gratified  than  was  hers,  by  this  most  un- 
expected offer  of  marriage  from  one  whom  she  had  been 
taught  to  regard  as  the  noblest  ornament  of  the  profession 
she  had  selected.  Thinking  of  the  hour  when  she  sat 
alone,  shedding  tears  of  mortification  and  bitter  disappoint- 
ment over  his  curt  letter  rejecting  her  ms.,  she  glanced  at 
the  stately  form  beside  her,  the  mysteriously  calm,  com- 
manding face,  the  large  white,  finely  moulded  hands,  wait- 
ing to  clasp  hers  for  all  time,  and  her  triumph  seemed 
complete. 

To  rule  the  destiny  of  that  strong  man,  whose  intellect 
was  so  influential  in  the  world  of  letters,  was  a  conquest 
of  which,  until  this  hour,  she  had  never  dreamed ;  and  the 
blacksmith's  darling  was,  after  all,  a  mere  woman,  and  the 
honor  dazzled  her. 

To  one  of  her  peculiar  temperament  wealth  offered  no 
temptation  ;  but  Douglass  Manning  had  climbed  to  a 
grand  eminence,  and,  looking  up  at  it,  she  knew  that  any 
woman  might  well  be  proud  to  share  it. 

He  filled  her  ideal,  he  came  fully  up  to  her  lofty  moral 
and  mental  standard.  She  knew  that  his  superior  she 
could  never  hope  to  meet,  and  her  confidence  in  his  nobil- 
ity of  character  was  boundless. 


ST.  ELMO.  429 

She  felt  that  his  society  had  become  necessary  to  her 
peace  of  mind ;  for  only  in  his  presence  was  it  possible  to 
forget  her  past.  Either  she  must  marry  him,  or  live  single, 
and  work  and  die — alone. 

To  a  girl  of  nineteen  the  latter  alternative  seems  more 
appalling  than  to  a  woman  of  thirty,  whose  eyes  have 
grown  strong  in  the  gray,  cold,  sunless  light  of  confirmed 
old-maidenhood ;  even  as  the  vision  of  those  who  live  in 
dim  caverns  requires  not  the  lamps, needed  by  new-comers 
fresh  from  the  dazzling  outer  world. 

Edna  was  weary  of  battling  with  precious  memories  of 

.  that  reckless,  fascinating  cynic  whom,  without  trusting, 

she  had  learned  to  love  ;  and  she  thought  that,  perhaps,  if 

she  were  the  wife  of  Mr.  Manning,  whom  without  loving 

she  fully  trusted,  it  would  help  her  to  forget  St.  Elmo. 

She  did  not  deceive  herself;  she  knew  that,  despite  her 
struggles  and  stern  interdicts,  she  loved  him  as  she  could 
never  hope  to  love  any  one  else-.  Impatiently  she  said  to 
herself: 

"  Mr.  Murray  is  as  old  as  Mr.  Manning,  and  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  public  is  his  inferior.  Oh  !  why  can  not  my 
weak,  wayward  heart  follow  my  strong,  clear-eyed  judg- 
ment ?  I  would  give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  love  Mr.  Man- 
ning as  I  love " 

She  compared  a  swarthy,  electrical  face,  scowling  and 
often  repulsively  harsh,  with  one  cloudless  and  noble,  over 
which  brooded  a  solemn  and  perpetual  peace ;  and  she 
almost  groaned  aloud  in  her  chagrin  and  self-contempt,  as 
she  thought,  "Surely,  if  ever  a  woman  was  infatuated  — 
possessed  by  an  evil  spirit — I  certainly  am." 

In  attempting  to  institute  a  parallel  between  the  two 
men,  one  seemed  serene,  majestic,  and  pure  as  the  vast 
snow-dome  of  Oraefa,  glittering  in  the  chill  light  of  mid- 
summer-midnight suns ;  the  other  fiery,  thunderous,  de- 
structive as  Izalco — one  moment  crowned  with  flames  and 
lava-lashed  —  the  next  wrapped  in  gloom  and  dust  and 
ashes. 


480  ST.  ELMO. 

While,  she  sat  there  wrestling  as  she  had  ne\  er  done  be- 
fore, even  on  that  day  of  trial  in  the  church,  memory,  as  if 
leagued  with  Satan,  brought  up  the  image  of  Mr.  Murray 
as  he  stood  pleading  for  himself,  for  his  future.  She  heard 
once  more  his  thrilling,  passionate  cry,  "  O  my  darling ! 
my  dai-ling  !  come  to  me  !"  And  pressing  her  face  to  the 
aning  of  the  carriage  to  stifle  a  groan,  she  seemed  to  feel 
again  the  close  clasp  of  his  arms,  the  throbbing  of  his  heart 
against  her  cheek,  the  warm,  tender,  lingering  pressure  of 
his  lips  on  hers. 

When  they  had  crossed  the  ferry  and  were  rattling  over 
the  streets  of  New- York,  Edna  took  her  hands  from  her 
eyes ;  and  there  was  a  rigid  paleness  in  her  face  and  a 
mournful  hollowness  in  her  voice,  as  she  said  almost 
sternly  : 

"  No,  Mr.  Manning  !  We  do  not  love  each  other,  and  I 
can  never  be  your  wife.  It  is  useless  for  me  to  assure  you 
that  I  am  flattered  by  your  preference ;  that  I  am  inex- 
pressibly proud  of  the  distinction  you  have  generously 
offered  to  confer  upon  me.  Sir,  you  can  not  doubt  that  I 
do  most  fully  and  gratefully  appreciate  this  honor,  which  I 
had  neither  the  right  to  expect  nor  the  presumption  tc 
dream  of.  My  reverence  and  admiration  are,  I  confess, 
almost  boundless,  but  I  find  not  one  atom  of  love ;  and  an 
examination  of  my  feelings  satisfies  me  that  I  could  never 
yield  you  that  homage  of  heart,  that  devoted  affection 
which  God  demands  that  every  wife  should  pay  her  hus- 
band. You  have  quite  as  little  love  for  me.  We  enjoy 
each  other's  society  because  our  pursuits  are  similar,  our 
tastes  congenial,  our  aspirations  identical.  In  pleasant  and 
profitable  companionship  we  can  certainly  indulge  as  here' 
tofore,  and  it  would  greatly  pain  me  to  be  deprived  of  it 
in  future  ;  but  this  can  be  ours  without  the  sinful  mockery 
of  a  marriage — for  sxxch  I  hold  a  loveless  union.  I  feel  that 
I  must  have  your  esteem  and  your  society,  but  your  love  I 
neither  desire  nor  ever  expect  to  possess;  for  the  sentiments 


ST.  JULMO.  431 

you  cherish  for  me  are  precisely  similar  to  those  which  1 
entertain  toward  you.  Mr.  Manning,  we  shall  always  be 
firm  friends,  but  nothkg  more." 

An  expression  of  surprise  and  disappointment  drifted 
across,  but  did  not  settle  on  the  editor's  quiet  countenance. 

Turning  to  her,  he  answered  with  grave  gentleness  : 

"  Judge  your  own  heart,  Edna ;  and  accept  my  verdict 
with  reference  to  mine.  Do  you  suppose  that  after  living 
single  all  these  years  I  would  ultimately  marry  a  woman 
for  whom  I  had  no  affection  ?  You  spoke  last  week  of  the 
mirror  of  John  Galeazzo  Visconte,  which  showed  his  be- 
loved Correggia  her  own  image ;  and  though  I  am  a  proud 
and  reticent  man,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  could  you  look 
into  my  heart  you  would  find  it  such  a  mirror.  Permit  me 
to  ask  whether  you  intend  to  accept  the  love  which  I  have 
reason  to  believe  Mr.  Murray  has  offered  you  ?" 

"  Mr.  Manning,  I  never  expect  to  marry  any  one,  for  I 
know  that  I  shall  never  meet  your  superior,  and  yet  I  can 
not  accept  your  most  flattering  offer.  You  fill  all  my  re- 
quirements of  noble,  Christian  manhood  ;  but  after  to-day 
this  subject  must  not  be  alluded  to." 

"Are  you  not  too  hasty  ?  Will  you  not  take  more  time 
for  reflection  ?     Is  your  decision  mature  and  final  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Manning — final,  unchangeable.  But  do  not 
throw  me  from  you!  I  am  very,  very  lonely,  and  you 
surely  will  not  forsake  me  ?" 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  up  pleadingly 
in  his  face,  and  the  editor  sighed  and  paused  a  moment 
before  he  replied : 

"  Edna,  if  under  any  circumstances  you  feel  that  I  can 
aid  or  advise  you,  I  shall  be  exceedingly  glad  to  reniei 
all  the  assistance  in  my  power.  Rest  assured  I  shall  not 
forsake  you  as  long  as  we  both  shall  live.  Call  upon  me 
without  hesitation,  and  I  will  respond  as  readily  and 
promptly  as  to  the  claims  of  my  little  Lila.  In  my  heart 
you  are  associated  with  her.     You  must  not  tax  yourself 


432  ST-  ELMO. 

so  unremittingly,  or  you  will  soon  ruin  your  constitution. 
There  is  a  weariness  in  your  face  and  a  languor  in  youi 
manner  mournfully  prophetic  of  failing  health.  Either  give 
up  your  situation  as  governess  or  abandon  your  writing.  I 
certainly  recommend  the  former,  as  I  can  not  spare  you 
from  '  Maga,'  " 

Here  the  carriage  stopped  at  Mrs.  Andrews's  door,  and 
as  he  handed  her  out  Mr.  Manning  said : 

"  Edna,  my  friend,  promise  me  that  you  will  not  write 
to-night." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Manning ;  I  promise." 

She  did  not  go  to  her  desk  ;  but  Felix  was  restless,  fever- 
ish, querulous,  and  it  was  after  midnight  when  she  laid  her 
head  on  her  pillow.  The  milkmen  in  their  noisy  carts  were 
clattering  along  the  streets  next  morning, before  her  heavy 
eyelids  closed,  and  she  fell  into  a  brief,  troubled  slumber; 
over  which  flitted  a  Fata  Morgana  of  dreams,  where  the 
central  figure  was  always  that  tall  one  whom  she  had  seen 
last  standing  at  the  railroad  depot,  with  the  rain  dripping 
3Ter  him. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


ET  thy  abundant  blessing  rest  upon  it,  O  Al- 
mighty God !  else  indeed  my  labor  will  be  in 
vain.    '  Paul  planted,  Apollos  watered,'  but  thou 
only  can  give  the  increase.    It  is  finished :  look 
down  in  mercy,  and  sanctify  it,  and  accept  it." 

The  night  was  almost  spent  when  Edna  laid  down  her 
pen,  and  raised  her  clasped  hands  over  the  MS.,  which  she 
had  just  completed. 

For  many  weary  months  she  had  toiled  to  render  it  wor- 
thy of  its  noble  theme,  had  spared  neither  time  nor  severe 
trains  of  thought ;  by  day  and  by  night  she  had  searched 
and  pondered ;  she  had  prayed  fervently  and  ceaselessly, 
and  worked  arduously,  unflaggingly,  to  accomplish  this  dar- 
ling hope  of  her  heart,  to  embody  successfully  this  ambi- 
tious dream,  and  at  last  the  book  was  finished. 

The  manuscript  was  a  mental  tapestry,  into  which  she 
had  woven  exquisite  shades  of  thought,  and  curious  and 
quaint,  devices  and  rich,  glowing  imagery  that  flecked 
the  groundwork  with  purple  and  amber  and  gold. 

But  would  the  design  be  duly  understood  and  appreci- 
ated by  the  great,  busy,  bustling  world,  for  whose  amuse- 
ment and  improvement  she  had  labored  so  assiduously  at 
the  spinning-wheels  of  fancy  —  the  loom  of  thought  ? 
Would  her  fellow-creatures  accept  it  in  the  earnest,  loving 
spirit  in  which  it  had  been  manufactured?  Would  they 
hang  this  Gobelin  of  her  brain  along  the  walls  of  mem- 
ory, and  turn  to  it  tenderly,  reading  reverently  its  ciphers 


484  ST-  ELMO. 

and  its  illuminations ;  or  would  fa  be  rent  and  ridiculed, 
and  trampled  under  foot  ?  This  book  w.'/s  a  shrine  to 
which  her  purest  thoughts,  her  holiest  aspirations  travelled 
like  pilgrims,  offering  the  best  of  which  her  nature  wag 
capable.  "Would  those  for  whom  she  had  patiently  chiselled 
and  built  it  guard  and  prize  and  keep  it;  or  smite  and 
overturn  and  defile  it  ? 

Looking  down  at  the  mass  of  ms.  now  ready  for  the 
printer,  a  sad,  tender,  yearning  expression  filled  the  au- 
thor's eyes  ;  and  her  little  white  hands  passed  caressingly 
over  its  closely-written  pages,  as  a  mother's  soft  fingers 
might  lovingly  stroke  the  face  of  a  child  about  to  be  thrust 
out  into  a  hurrying  crowd  of  cold,  indifferent  strangers, 
who  perhaps  would  rudely  jeer  at  and  brow-beat  her  dar- 
ling. 

For  several  days  past  Edna  had  labored  assiduously  to 
complete  the  book,  and  now  at  last  she  could  fold  her  tired 
hands,  and  rest  her  weary  brain. 

But  outraged  nature  suddenly  swore  vengeance,  and  her 
overworked  nerves  rose  in  fierce  rebellion,  refusing  to  be 
calm.  She  had  so  long  anticipated  this  hour  that  its  arrival 
was  greeted  by  emotions  beyond  her  control.  As  she  con- 
cemplated  the  possible  future  of  that  pile  of  ms.,  her  heart 
bounded  madly,  and  then  once  more* a  fearful  agony  seized 
her,  and  darkness  and  a  sense  of  suffocation  came  upon  her. 
Rising,  she  strained  her  eyes  and  groped  her  way  toward 
the  window,  but  ere  she  reached  it  fell,  and  lost  all  con- 
sciousness. 

The  sound  of  the  fall,  the  crash  of  a  china  vase  which 
her  hand  had  swept  from  the  table,  echoed  startlingly 
through  the  silent  house,  and  aroused  some  of  its  inmates. 
Mrs.  Andrews  ran  up  stairs  and  into  Felix's  room,  saw  that 
he  was  sleeping  soundly,  and  then  she  hastened  up  another 
flight  of  steps,  to  the  apartment  occupied  by  the  governess. 
The  gas  burned  dazzingly  over  the  table  whpre  rested  the 
rolls  of  MS.,  and  on  the.  floor  near  the  window  lay  Edna. 


ST  KHMO.  4S5 

Ringing  the  bell  furiously  to  summon  her  husband  and 
the  servants,  Mrs.  Andrews  knelt,  raised  the  girl's  head, 
and  rubbing  her  cold  hands,  tried  to  rouse  her.  The  heart 
beat  faintly,  and  seemed  to  stop  now  and  then,  and  the 
white,  rigid  face  was  as  ghastly  as  if  the  dread  kiss  of  Sam- 
ael  had  indeed  been  pressed  upon  her  still  lips. 

Finding  all  her  restoratives  ineffectual,  Mrs.  Andrews  sent 
her  husband  for  the  family  physician,  and  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  servants,  laid  the  girl  on  her  bed. 

When  the  doctor  arrived  and  questioned  her,  she  could 
furnish  no  clew  to  the  cause  of  the  attack,  save  by  pointing 
to  the  table,  where  pen  and  paper  showed  that  the  sufferer 
had  been  at  work. 

Edna  opened  her  eyes  at  last,  and  looked  around  at  the 
group  of  anxious  faces,  but  in  a  moment  the  spasm  of  pain 
returned.  Twice  she  muttered  something,  and  putting  his 
ear  close  to  her  mouth,  the  doctor  heard  her  whispering  to 
herself: 

"  Never  mind ;  it  is  done  at  last !     Now  I  can  rest." 

An  hour  elapsed  before  the  paroxysms  entirely  subsided, 
and  then,  with  her  ivory-like  hands  clasped  and  thrown  xip 
over  her  head,  the  governess  slept  heavily,  dreamlessly. 

For  two  days  she  remained  in  her  own  apartment,  and 
on  the  morning  of  the  third  came  down  to  the  school-room, 
with  a  slow,  weary  step  and  a  bloodless  face,  and  a  feeling 
of  hopeless  helplessness. 

She  dispatched  her  MS.  to  the  publisher  to  whom  she  had 
resolved  to  offer  it,  and,  leaning  far  back  in  her  chair,  took 
up  Felix's  Greek  grammar. 

Since  the  days  of  Dionysius  Thrax,  it  had  probably  never 
appeared  so  tedious,  so  intolerably  tiresome,  as  she  found 
it  now,  and  she  felt  relieved,  almost  grateful,  when  Mrs. 
Andrews  sent  for  her  to  come  to  the  library,  where  Dr. 
Howell  was  waiting  to  see  her. 

Seating  himself  beside  her,  the  physician  examined  he* 
oountenance  and  pulse,  and  put  his  ear  close  to  her  heart. 


436  ST.  ELMO. 

"Miss  Earl,  have  you  had  many  si  en  attacks  as  thi  one 
whose  effects  have  not  yet  passed  away  ?" 

"  This  is  the  second  time  I  have  suffered  so  severely ; 
though  very  frequently  I  find  a  disagreeable  fluttering 
about  my  heart,  which  is  not  very  painful." 

"  "What  mode  of  treatment  have  you  been  following  ?" 

"  None,  sir.     I  have  never  consulted  a  physician." 
\   "  Humph  !     Is  it  possible  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  the  keen  incisive  eye  of  his  pro- 
fession, and  pressed  his  ear  once  more  to  her  heart,  listen- 
ing to  the  irregular  and  rapid  pulsations. 

"  Miss  Earl,  are  you  an  orphan  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  you  any  living  relatives  ?" 

"  None  that  I  ever  heard  of." 

"  Did  any  of  your  family  die  suddenly  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  told  that  my  mother  died  while  ap- 
parently as  well  as  usual,  and  engaged  in  spinning;  and 
my  grandfather  I  found  dead,  sitting  in  his  rocking-chair, 
6moking  his  pipe." 

Dr.  Howell  cleared  his  throat,  sighed,  and  was  silent. 

He  saw  a  strange,  startled  expression  leap  into  the  large 
shadowy  eyes,  and  the  mouth  quivered,  and  the  wan  face 
grew  whiter,  and  the  thin  fingers  grasped  each  other ;  but 
she  said  nothing,  and  they  sat  looking  at  one  another. 

The  physician  had  come  like  Daniel  to  the  banquet  of 
life,  and  solved  for  the  Belshazzar  of  youth  the  hideous 
riddle  scrawled  on  the  walls. 

"  Dr.  Howell,  can  you  do  nothing  for  me  ?" 

Her  voice  had  sunk  to  a  whisper,  and  she  leaned  eagerly 
forward  to  oatch  his  answer. 

"Miss  Earl,  do  you  know  what  is  meant  by  hypertrophy 
of  the  heart  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know." 

She  shivered  slightly. 

"  "Whether  you  inherited  yotir  disease,  I  am  not  prepared 


ST.  ELMO.  437 

to  say,  but  certainly  m  your  case  there  are  some  grounds 
for  the  belief." 

Presently  she  said  abstractedly : 

"  But  grandpa  lived  to  be  an  old  man." 

The  doctor's  eyes  fell  upon  the  mosaic  floor  of  the  libra* 
ry ;  and  then  she  knew  that  he  could  give  her  no  hope. 

When  at  last  he  looked  up  again,  he  saw  that  she  had 
dropped  her  face  in  her  palms,  and  he  was  awed  by  the 
deathlike  repose  of  her  figure,  the  calm  fortitude  she  evinced. 

"Miss  Earl,  I  never  deceive  my  patients.  It  is  useless 
to  dose  you  with  medicine,  and  drug  you  into  semi-insensi- 
bility. You  must  have  rest  and  quiet ;  rest  for  mind  as 
well  as  body ;  there  must  be  no  more  teaching  or  writing. 
You  are  over-worked,  and  incessant  mental  labor  has  has 
tened  the  approach  of  a  disease  which,  under  other  circum- 
stances, might  have  encroached  very  slowly  and  impercep- 
tibly. If  latent  (which  is  barely  possible)  it  has  contrib- 
uted to  a  fearfully  rapid  development.  Refrain  from  study, 
avoid  all  excitement,  exercise  moderately  but  regularly  in 
the  open  air;  and,  above  all  things,  do  not  tax  your  brain. 
If  you  carefully  observe  these  directions,  you  may  live  to 
be  as  old  as  your  grandfather.  Heart  diseases  baffle  proph- 
ecy, and  I  make  no  predictions." 

He  rose  and  took  his  hat  from  the  table. 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  have  read  your  writings  with  great  pleas- 
ure, and  watched  your  brightening  career  with  more  in- 
terest than  I  ever  felt  in  any  other  female  author ;  and  God 
knows  it  is  exceedingly  painful  for  me  to  tear  away  the 
veil  from  your  eyes.  From  the  first  time  you  were  pointed 
out  to  me  in  church,  I  saw  that  in  your  couutenance  which 
distressed  and  alarmed  me ;  for  its  marble  pallor  whispered 
that  your  days  were  numbered.  Frequently  I  have  been 
tempted  to  come  and  expostulate  with  you,  but  I  knew  it 
would  be  useless.  You  have  no  reader  who  would  more 
earnestly  deplore  the  loss  of  your  writings,  but,  for  your 
own  sake,  I  beg  you  to  Ihrow  away  your  pen  and  rest." 


43  S  ST.  ELMO. 

She  raised  her  head  and  a  faint  smile  ci  tpt  feebly  across 
her  face. 

"  Rest !  rest !  If  my  time  is  so  short  I  can  not  afford  to 
rest.  There  is  so  much  to  do,  so  much  that  I  have  planned 
and  hoped  to  accomplish.  I  am  only  beginning  to  leam 
how  to  handle  my  tools,  my  life-work  is  as  yet  barely  begun 
Whm  my  long  rest  overtakes  me,  I  must  not  be  found  idle 
sitting  with  folded  hands.  Since  I  was  thirteen  yearp,  old 
I  have  never  once  rested ;  and  now  I  am  afraid  I  never  shall. 
I  would  rather  die  working  than  live  a  drone." 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Earl,  those  who  love  you  have  claims 
upon  you." 

"  I  am  alone  in  this  world.  I  have  no  family  to  love  me, 
and  my  work  is  to  me  what  I  suppose  dear  relatives  must 
be  to  other  women.  For  six  years  I  have  been  studying 
to  tit  myself  for  usefulness,  have  lived  with  and  for  books ; 
and  though  I  have  a  few  noble  and  kind  friends,  do  you 
suppose  I  ever  forget  that  I  am  kinless  ?  It  is  a  mournful 
tiling  to  know  that  you  are  utterly  isolated  among  millions 
of  human  beings ;  that  not  a  drop  of  your  blood  flows  in 
any  other  veins.  My  God  only  has  a  claim  upon  me.  Dr. 
Howell,  I  thank  you  for  your  candor.  It  is  best  that  I 
should  know  the  truth ;  and  I  am  glad  that,  instead  of  treat- 
ing me  like  a  child,  you  have  frankly  told  me  all.  More 
than  once  I  have  had  a  singular  feeling,  a  shadowy  present- 
iment that  I  should  not  live  to  be  an  old  woman,  bat  I 
thought  it  the  relic  of  childish  superstition,  and  I  did  not 
imagine  that — that  I  might  be  called  away  at  any  instant. 
I  did  not  suspect  that  just  as  I  had  arranged  my  workshop, 
and  sharpened  all  my  tools,  and  measured  off  my  work, 
that  my  morning  sun  would  set  suddenly  in  the  glowing 
east,  and  the  long,  cold  night  fall  upon  me, '  wherein  no  man 
can  work ' " 

Her  voice  faltered,  and  the  physician  turned  away,  and 
looked  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  death,  nor  am  I  so  wrapped  up  w 


ST.  ELMO.  439 

the  mere  happiness  which  this  world  gives;  nc  no;  tint '2 
love  my  work !  Ah  !  I  want  to  live  long  enough  to  finish 
something  grand  and  noble,  something  that  will  live  when 
the  hands  that  fashioned  it  have  crumbled  back  to  dust ; 
something  that  will  follow  me  across  and  beyond  the  dark 
8i  Lent  valley,  something  that  can  not  be  hushed  and  straight- 
ened and  bandaged  and  screwed  down  under  my  coffin-lid, 
oh !  something  that  will  echo  in  eternity !  that  grandpa 
and  I  can  hear  '  sounding  down  the  ages,'  making  music 
for  the  people,  when  I  go  to  my  final  rest !  And,  please 
God !  I  shall !  I  will !  O  doctor !  I  have  a  feeling  here 
which  assures  me  I  shall  be  spared  till  I  finish  my  darling 
scheme.  You  know  Glanville  said,  and  Poe  quoted,  '  Man 
doth  not  yield  himself  to  the  angels,  nor  unto  death  utterly, 
save  only  through  the  weakness  of  his  feeble  will.'  Mine 
is  strong,  invincible  ;  it  will  sustain  me  for  a  longer  period 
than  you  seem  to  believe.  The  end  is  not  yet.  Doctor,  do 
not  tell  people  what  you  have  told  me.  I  do  not  want  to 
be  watched  and  pitied,  like  a  doomed  victim  who  walks 
about  the  scaffold  with  a  rope  already  around  his  neck. 
Let  the  secret  rest  between  you  and  me." 

He  looked  woncleringly  at  the  electric  white  face,  and 
something  in  its  chill  radiance  reminded  him  of  the  borealis 
light,  that  waves  its  ghostly  banners  over  a  cold  midnight 
sky. 

"  God  grant  that  I  may  be  in  error  concerning  your  dis- 
ease;; 'and  that  threescore  years  and  ten  may  be  allotted 
you,  to  embody  the  airy  dreams  you  love  so  well.  I  repeat, 
if  you  wish  to  prolong  your  days,  give  yourself  more  rest. 
I  can  do  you  little  good ;  still,  if  at  any  time  you  fancy  that 
I  can  aid  or  relieve  you,  do  not  hesitate  to  send  for  me.  I 
shall  come  to  see  you  as  a  friend,  .who  reads  and  loves  all 
that  has  yet  fallen  from  your  pen.  God  help  and  bless  you, 
child !"     • 

As  he  left  the  room  she  locked  the  door,  and  walked 
slowly  back  to  the  low  mantel-piece.     Resting  her  arms  on 


410  ST-  ELMO. 

the  black  marble,  she  laid  her  head  down  upon  them,  and 
ambition  and  death  stared  face  to  face,  and  held  grim  par- 
ley over  the  coveted  prey. 

Taking  the  probable  measure  of  her  remaining  days,  Edna 
fearlessly  fronted  the  future,  and  pondered  the  possibility 
of  crowding  into  two  years  the  work  which  she  had  design* 
ed  for  twenty. 

To  tell  the  girl  to  "  rest,"  was  a  mockery ;  the  tides  of 
thought  ebbed  and  flowed  as  ceaselessly  as  those  of  ocean, 
and  work  had  become  a  necessity  of  her  existence.  She  was 
fai*,  far  beyond  the  cool,  quiet  palms  of  rest,  far  out  on  the 
burning  sands ;  and  the  Bahr-Sheitan  rippled  and  glittered 
and  beckoned,  and  she  panted  and  pressed  on. 

One  book  was  finished,  but  before  she  had  completed  it 
the  form  and  features  of  another  struggled  in  her  busy 
brain,  and  she  longed  to  put  them  on  paper. 

The  design  of  the  second  book  appeared  to  her  partial 
eyes  almost  perfect,  and  the  first  seemed  insignificant  in 
comparison.  Trains  of  thought  that  had  charmed  her, 
making  her  heart  throb  and  her  temples  flush ;  and  meta- 
phors that  glowed  as  she  wrote  them  down,  ah !  how  tame 
and  trite  all  looked  now,  in  the  brighter  light  of  a  newer 
revelation !  The  attained,  the  achieved,  tarnished  in  her 
grasp.  All  behind  was  dun;  all  beyond  clothed  with  a 
dazzling  glory  that  lured  her  on. 

Once  the  fondest  hope  of  hei  heart  had  been  to  finish  tli6 
book  now  in  the  publisher's  hands  ;  but  ere  it  could  be  print- 
ed, other  characters,  other  aims,  other  scenes  usurped  her 
attention.  If  she  could  only  live  long  enough  to  incarnate 
the  new  ideal ! 

Moreover,  she  knew  that  memory  would  spring  up  and 
renew  its  almost  intolerable  torture,  the  moment  that  she 
gave  herself  to  aimless  reveries ;  and  she  felt  that  her  sole 
hope  of  peace  of  mind,  her  only  rest,  was  in  earnest  and  un- 
ceasing labor.  Subtle  associations,  merciless  as  the  chains 
of  Bonnivard,  bound  her  to  a  past  which  she  was  earnestly 


si:  ELMO.  441 

striving  to  forget;  and  she  continually  paced  ss  far  <ff  as 
her  shackles  world  permit,  sternly  refusing  to  sit  down 
meekly  at  the  foot  of  the  stake.  She  worked  late  a'j  night 
until  her  body  was  exhausted,  because  she  dreaded  to  lie 
awake,  tossing  helplessly  on  her  pillow;  haunted  by  pre- 
cious recollections  of  days  gone  by  for  ever. 

Her  name  was  known  in  the  world  of  letters,  her  reputa- 
tion was  already  enviable ;  extravagant  expectations  were 
entertained  concerning  her  future  ;  and  to  maintain  her  hold 
on  public  esteem,  to  climb  higher,  had  become  necessary 
for  her  happiness. 

Through  Mr.  Manning's  influence  and  friendship  she  was 
daily  making  the  acquaintance  of  the  leading  men  in  litera- 
ture, and  their  letters  and  conversation  stimulated  her  to 
renewed  exertion: 

Yet  she  had  never  stooped  to  conciliate  popular  preju- 
dices, had  never  written  a  line  which  her  conscience  did 
not  dictate,  and  her  religious  convictions  sanction  ;  had 
bravely  attacked  some  of  the  pet  vices  and  shameless  fol- 
lies of  society,  and  had  never  penned  a  page  without  a 
prayer  for  guidance  from  on  High. 

Now  in  her  path  rose  God's  Reaper,  swinging  his  shining 
sickle,  threatening  to  cut  off  and  lay  low  her  budding  lau- 
rel-wreath. 

While  she  stood  silent  and  motionless  in  the  quiet  libra- 
ry, the  woman's  soul  was  wrestling  with  God  for  permis- 
sion to  toil  a  little  while  longer  on  earth,  to  do  some  good 
for  her  race,  and  to  assist  in  saving  a  darkened  soul  almost 
as  dear  to  her  as  her  own. 

She  never  knew  how  long  that  struggle  for  life  lasted ; 
but  when  the  prayer  ended,  and  she  lifted  her  face,  the 
shadows  and  the  sorrowful  dread  had  passed  away ;  and 
the  old  calm,  the  old  sweet,  patient  smile  reigned  over  the 
pale,  worn  features. 

Early  in  J  ily,  Felix's  feeble  health  forced  his  mother  to 
abandon  her  projected  tour  to  the  White  Mountains;  and 


-12  ST.  ELMO. 

iri  accordance  with  Dr.  Howell's  advice,  Mr.  Andrews  re 
moved  his  family  to  a  sea-side  summer-place,  which  he  had 
owned  for  some  years,  but  rarely  occupied,  as  his  wife  pre- 
ferred Newport,  Saratoga,  and  JSTahant. 

The  house  at  the  "  Willows  "  was  large  and  airy,  the 
ceilings  were  high,  windows  wide,  and  a  broad  piazza, 
stretching  across  the  front,  was  shaded  by  twc  aged  and 
enormous  willows,  that  stood  on  either  side  of  the  steps, 
and  gave  a  name  to  the  place. 

The  fresh  matting  on  the  floors,  the  light  cane  sofas  and 
chairs,  the  white  muslin  curtains  and  newly-painted  green 
blinds  imparted  an  appearance  of  delicious  coolness  and 
repose  to  the  rooms ;  and  while  not  one  bright-hued  paint- 
ing was  visible,  the  walls  were  hung  with  soft,  gray,  misty 
engravings  of  Landseer's  pictures,  framed  in  carved  ebony 
and  rosewood  and  oak. 

The  gilded  splendor  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  house  was  left 
behind ;  here  simplicity  and  quiet  comfort  held  sway. 
Evren  the  china  wore  no  glitter,  but  was  enamelled  with 
green  wreaths  of  vine-leaves  ;  and  the  vases  held  only 
plumy  ferns,  fresh  and  dewy. 

Low  salt  meadow-lands  extended  east  and  west,  waving 
fields  of  corn  stretched  northward,  and  the  slight  knoll  on 
which  the  building  stood  sloped  smoothly  down  to  the  ever- 
moaning,  foam-fretted  bosom  of  the  blue  Atlantic. 

To  the  governess  and  her  pupils  the  change  from  New- 
York  heat  and  bustle  to  sea-side  rest, was  welcome  and  de- 
lightful ;  and  during  the  long  July  days,  when  the  strong 
ocean  breeze  tossed  aside  the  willow  boughs,  and  swept 
through  the  rustling  blinds,  and  lifted  the  hair  on  Edna's 
hot  temples,  she  felt  as  if  she  had  indeed  taken  a  new  lease 
on  life. 

For  several  weeks  her  book  had  been  announced  as  in 
press,  and  her  publishers  printed  most  flattering  circulars, 
which  heightened  expectation,  and  paved  the  way  for  its 
favorable   reception.     Save  the  first  chapter,  rejected  by 


ST.  ELMO.  443 

Mr.  Manning  long  before,  no  one  had  teen  tLe  MS. ;  ani 
while  the  reading  public  was  on  the  qui  vive,  ti  e  authoi 
was  rapidly  maturing  the  plot  of  a  second  work. 

Finally,  the  book  was  bound  ;  editors'  copies  winged  their 
way  throughout  the  country  ;  the  curious  eagerly  supplied 
themselves  with  the  latest  publication ;  and  Edna's  destiny 
as  an  author  hung  in  the  balance, 

It  was  with  strange  emotions  that  she  handled  the  copy 
sent  to  her,  for  it  seemed  indeed  a  part  of  herself.  She 
knew  that  her  own  heart  was  throbbing  in  its  pages,  and 
wondered  whether  the  great  world-pulses  would  beat  in 
unison. 

Instead  of  a  preface  she  had  quoted  on  the  title-page 
those  pithy  lines  in  "  Aurora  Leigh  "  : 

"  My  critic  Belfair  wants  a  book 
Entirely  different,  wliich  will  sell  and  live  ; 
A  striking  book,  yet  not  a  startling  book — 
The  public  blames  originalities. 
You  must  not  pump  spring-water  unawares 
Upon  a  gracious  public  full  of  nerves — 
Good  things,  not  subtle — new,  yet  orthodox ; 
As  easy  reading  as  the  dog-eared  page 
That's  fingered  by  said  public  fifty  years, 
Since  first  taught  spelling  by  its  grandmother, 
And  yet  a  revelation  in  some  sort : 
That's  hard,  my  critic  Belfair  1" 

N  o  w,  as  Edna  nestled  her  fingers  among  the  pages  of  her 
book,  a  tear  fell  and  moistened  them,  and  the  unvoiced  lan- 
guage of  her  soul  was,  "  Grandpa  !  do  you  keep  close 
enough  to  me  to  read  my  book  ?  Oh  !  do  you  like  it  ?  aro 
you  satisfied  ?     Are  you  proud  of  your  poor  little  Pearl  ?" 

The  days  were  tediously  long  while  she  waited  in  sus- 
pense for  the  result  of  the  weighing  in  editors'  sanctums, 
for  the  awful  verdict  of  the  critical  Sanhedrim.  A  week 
dragged  itself  away ;  and  the  severity  of  the  decree  might 
have  entitled  it  to  one  of  those  slips  of  blue  paper  upon 


144  ST  ELMO. 

which  Frederick  the  Great  required  his  souits  to  inscribe 
their  sentences  of  death.     Edna  learned  the  full  import  of 

the  words : 

"  He.  that  writes, 
Or  makes  a  feast,  more  certainly  invites 
His  judges  than  Ms  friends  ;  there's  not  a  guest 
But  will  find  something  wanting  or  ill-drest." 

Newspapers  pronounced  her  book  a  failure.  Some  sneer- 
ed in  a  gentlemanly  manner,  employing  polite  phraseology ; 
others  coarsely  caricatured  it.  Many  were  insulted  by  its 
incomprehensible  erudition ;  a  few  growled  at  its  shallow- 
ness. To-day  there  was  a  hint  at  plagiarism ;  to-morrow 
an  outright,  wholesale  theft  was  asserted.  Now  she  was  a 
pedant ;  and  then  a  sciolist.  Reviews  poured  in  upon  her 
thick  and  fast ;  all  found  grievous  faults,  but  no  two  re- 
viewers settled  on  the  same  error.  What  one  seemed  dis- 
posed to  consider  almost  laudable  the  other  denounced  vio- 
lently. One  eminently  shrewd,  lynx-eyed  editor  discovered 
that  two  of  her  characters  were  stolen  from  a  book  which 
Edna  had  never  seen ;  and  another,  equally  ingenious  and 
penetrating,  found  her  entire  plot  in  a  work  of  which  she 
had  never  heard ;  while  a  third,  shocked  at  her  pedantry, 
indignantly  assured  her  readers  that  they  had  been  im- 
posed upon,  that  the  learning  was  -all  "  picked  up  from  en- 
cyclopaedias;"  whereat  the  young  author  could  not  help 
laughing  heartily,  and  wondered  why,  if  her  learning  had 
been  so  easily  gleaned,  her  irate  and  insulted  critics  did  not 
follow  her  example. 

The  book  was  for  many  days  snubbed,  buffeted,  brow- 
beaten ;  and  the  carefully-woven  tapestry  was  torn  into 
shreds  and  trampled  upon  ;  and  it  seemed  that  the  patiently 
sculptured  shrine  was  overturned  and  despised  and  des- 
ecrated. 

Edna  was  astonished.  She  knew  that  her  work  was  not 
perfect,  but  she  was  equally  sure  that  it  was  not  contempti- 
ble.   She  was  surprised  rather  than  mortified,  and  was  con- 


ST.  ELMO.  445 

vinced,  from  the  universal  howling,  that  she  had  w curded 
more  people  than  she  dreamed  were  vulnerable. 

She  felt  that  the  impetuosity  and  savageness  of  the  at- 
tacks must  necessitate  a  recoil ;  and  though  it  was  difficult 
to  be  patient  under  such  circumstances,  she  waited  quietly, 
undismayed  by  the  clamor. 

Meantime  the  book  sold  rapidly,  the  publishers  could 
scarcely  supply  the  demand ;  and  at  last  Mr.  Manning's 
Magazine  appeared,  and  the  yelping  pack  of  Dandie  Din- 
mont's  pets — Auld  Mustard  and  Little  Mustard,  Auld  Pep- 
per and  Little  Pepper,  Young  Mustard  and  Young  Pepper, 
stood  silent  and  listened  to  the  roar  of  the  lion. 

The  review  of  Edna's  work  was  headed  by  that  calm  re- 
tort of  Job  to  his  self-complacent  censors,  "  N"o  doubt  but 
ye  are  the  people,  and  wisdom  shall  die  with  you ;"  and  it 
contained  a  withering  rebuke  to  those  who  had  so  flippantly 
essayed  to  crush  the  young  writer. 

Mr.  Manning  handled  the  book  with  the  stern  imparti- 
ality which  gave  such  value  to  his  criticisms — treating  it  as 
if  it  had  been  written  by  an  utter  stranger. 

He  analyzed  it  thoroughly ;  and  while  pointing  out  some 
serious  errors  which  had  escaped  all  eyes  but  his,  he  be- 
stowed upon  a  few  passages  praise  which  no  other  Ameri- 
can writer  had  ever  received  from  him,  and  predicted  that 
they  would  live  when  those  who  attempted  to  ridicule  them 
were  utterly  forgotten  in  their  graves. 

The  young  author  was  told  that  she  had  not  succeeded  in 
her  grand  aim,  because  the  subject  was  too  vast  for  the  lim- 
its of  a  novel,  and  her  acquaintance  with  the  mythologies  of 
the  world  was  not  sufficiently  extensive  or  intimate.  But  she 
was  encouraged  to  select  other  themes  more  in  accordance 
with  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived ;  and  the  as- 
surance was  given  to  her,  that  her  writings  were  destined 
to  exert  a  powerful  influence  on  her  race.  Some  faults  of 
style  were  gravely  reprimanded,  some  beauties  most  cor- 
dially eulogized  and  held  up  for  the  admiration  of  the 
world. 


446  #7-  ELMO. 

Edna  had  as  little  literary  conceit  as  personal  vanity 
she  saw  and  acknowledged  the  errors  pointed  out  by  Mr. 
Manning,  and  resolved  to  avoid  them  in  future,  She  felt 
that  some  objections  urged  against  her  book  were  valid, 
but  knew  that  she  was  honest  and  earnest  in  her  work,  and 
could  not  justly  be  accused  of  trifling. 

Gratefully  and  joyfully  she  accepted  Mr.  Manning's  ver- 
dict, and  turned  her  undivided  attention  upon  her  new 
manuscript. 

While  the  critics  snarled,  the  mass  of  readers  warmly  ap- 
proved; and  many  who  did  not  fully  appreciate  all  her  ar- 
guments and  illustrations,  were  at  least  clear-eyed  enough 
to  perceive  that  it  was  their  misfortune,  not  her  fault. 

Gradually  the  book  took  firm  hold  on  the  affections  of 
the  people ;  and  a  few  editors  came  boldly  to  the  rescue, 
and  nobly  and  ably  championed  it. 

During  these  days  of  trial,  Edna  could  not  avoid  observ- 
ing one  humiliating  fact,  that  saddened  without  embitter- 
ing her  nature.  She  found  that  instead  of  sympathizing 
with  her,  she  received  no  mercy  from  authors,  who,  as  a 
class,  out-Heroded  Herod  in  their  denunciations,  and  left 
her  little  room  to  doubt  that — 

"  Envy's  a  sharper  spur  than  pay, 
And  unprovoked  'twill  court  the  fray ; 
No  author  ever  spared  a  brother ; 
Wits  are  gamecocks  to  one  another." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


jISS  EARL,  you  promised  that  as  soon  as  I  5n* 
ished  the  'Antiquary'  you  would  read  ui6  a  de- 
scription of  the  spot  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  se- 
lected for  the  scene  of  his  story.  We  have  read 
the  last  chapter :  now  please  remember  your  promise." 

"  Felix,  in  your  hunger  for  books  you  remind  me  of  the 
accounts  given  of  cormorants.  The  '  Antiquary '  ought  to 
satisfy  you  for  the  present,  and  furnish  food  for  thought 
that  would  last  at  least  till  to-morrow ;  still,  if  you  exact 
an  immediate  fulfilment  of  my  promise,  I  am  quite  ready  to 
comply." 

Edna  took  from  her  work-basket  a  new  and  handsomely- 
illustrated  volume,  and  read  Bertram's*  graphic  description 
of  Auchmithie  and  the  coast  of  Forfarshire. 

Finding  that  her  pupils  were  deeply  interested  in  the 

'"Fisher  Folk,"  she  read  on  and  on;  and  when  she  began 

the  pathetic  story  of  the  widow  at  Prestonpans,  Hattie's 

eyes  widened  with   wonder,  and  Felix's  were   dim  with 

tears : 

"  We  kent  then  that  we  micht  look  across  the  sea ;  but 
ower  the  waters  would  never  blink  the  een  that  made  sun- 
shine around  our  hearths  ;  ower  the  waters  would  never 
come  the  voices  that  were  mair  delightfu'  than  the  music  o' 
the  simmer  winds,  when  the  leaves  gang  dancing  till  they 
sang.    My  story,  sir,  is  dune.    I  hae  nae  mair  tae  tell.     Suf- 


•  The  author  is  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  more  than  one  quotation  to  be  found  In  these 
pages  may  be  considered  anachronistic. 


448  ST.  ELMO. 

ficient  and  suffice  it  till  say,  that  there  was  great  grief  u\ 
the  Pans — Rachel  weeping  for  her  weans,  and  wouldna  be 
comforted.  The  windows  were  darkened,  and  the  air  was 
heavy  wi'  sighin'  and  sabbin'." 

The  governess  closed  the  book,  laid  it  back  in  her  basnet, 
and  raising  the  lid  of  the  piano,  she  sang  that  sad,  wailing 
lyric  of  Kingsley's,  "  The  Three  Fishers." 

It  was  one  of  those  rare  and  royal  afternoons  late  in  Au- 
gust, when  summer,  conscious  that  her  reign  is  well-nigh 
ended,  gathers  all  her  gorgeous  drapery,  and  proudly  robes 
the  world  in  regal  pomp  and  short-lived  splendor.  Pearly 
cloud  islets,  with  silver  sti'ands,  clustered  in  the  calm  blue 
of  the  upper  air ;  soft,  salmon-hued  cumulus  masses  sailed 
solemnly  along  the  eastern  horizon  —  atmospheric  ships 
freighted  in  the  tropics  with  crystal  showers  for  thirsty 
fields  and  parched  meadows— with  snow  crowns  for  Ice- 
landic mountain  brows,  and  shrouds  of  sleet  for  mouldering 
masts,  tossed  high  and  helpless  on  desolate  Arctic  cliffs. 
Restless  gulls  flashed  their  spotless  wings,  as  they  circled 
and  dipped  in  the  shining  waves ;  and  in  the  magic  light  of 
evening,  the  swelling  canvas  of  a  distant  sloop  glittered 
like  plate-glass  smitten  with  sunshine.  A  strong,  steady 
southern  breeze  curled  and  crested  the  beautiful,  bounding 
billows,  over  which  a  fishing-smack  danced  like  a  gilded 
bubble ;  and  as  the  aged  willows  bowed  their  heads,  it 
whispered  messages  from  citron,  palm,  and  orange  groves, 
gleaming  far,  far  away  under  the  white  fire  of  the  Southern 
Crown. 

Strange  tidings  these  "  winged  winds "  waft  over  sea 
and  land  ;  and  to-day  listening  to  low  tones  that  travelled 
to  her  from  Le  Bocagre  Edna  looked  out  over  the  ever- 
changing,  wrinkled  face  of  ocean,  and  fell  into  a  reverie. 

Silence  reigned  in  the  sitting-room;  Hattie  fitted  a  new 
tarlatan  dress  on  her  doll,  and  Felix  was  dreaming  of  Pres- 
tonpans. 

The  breeze  swept  over  the  cluster  of  Tuscan    jasmine, 


ST.  ELMO.  449 

and  the  tall,  snowy  phlox  nodding  in  tht  greeL  v  ase  on  the 
table,  and  shook  the  muslin  curtains  till  .dght  Mid  shadow 
chased  each  other  like  waves  over  the  noble  Longhi  en- 
graving of  Raphael's  "Vision  of  Ezekiel,"  which  hung  just 
above  the  piano.  After  a  while  Felix  took  his  chin  from  the 
window-sill,  and  his  eyes  from  the  sparkling,  tossing  water, 
and  his  gaze  sought  the  beloved  countenance  of  his  gov- 
erness. 

"  The  mouth  with  steady  sweetness  set, 

And  eyes  conveying  unaware 
The  distant  hint  of  some  regret 

That  harbored  there." 

Her  dress  was  of  white  mull,  with  lace  gathered  around 
the  neck  and  wristbands ;  a  delicate  fringy  fern-leaf  was 
caught  by  the  cameo  that  pinned  the  lace  collar,  and  around 
the  heavy  coil  of  hair  at  the  back  of  her  head,  Hattie  had 
twined  a  spray  of  scarlet  tecoma. 

Save  the  faint  red  on  her  thin,  flexible  lips,  her  face  was  as 
stainless  as  that  of  the  Hebrew  Mary,  in  a  carved  ivory 
"  Descent  from  the  Cross,"  which  hung  over  the  mantel- 
piece. 

As  the  boy  watched  her  he  thought  the  beautiful  eyes 
were  larger  and  deeper,  and  burned  more  brilliantly  than 
ever  before  ;  and  the  violet  shadows  beneath  them  seemed 
to  widen  day  by  day,  telling  of  hard  study  and  continued 
vigils.  Pale  and  peaceful,  patiently  sad,  without  a  trace 
of  bitterness  or  harshness,  her  countenance  might  have 
served  as  a  model  for  some  which  Ary  Scheffer  dimly  saw 
in  his  rapt  musings  over  "  Wilhelm  Meister." 

"  Oh  !  yonder  comes  mamma  and — Uncle  Grey  !  No  ; 
that  is  not  my  uncle  Grey.  Who  can  it  be  ?  It  is — Sir 
Roger !" 

Hattie  ran  out  to  meet  her  mother,  who  had  been  to 
New-York  ;  and  Felix  frowned,  took  up  his  crutches,  and 
put  on  his  hat. 

Edna  turned  and  went  to  her  own  room,  and  in  a  few 


450  ST.  ELMO. 

moments  Hattie  brought  her  a  package  of  letters,  and  a 
message  from  Mrs.  Andrews,  desiring  her  to  come  hack  to 
the  sitting-room. 

Glancing  over  the  directions  the  governess  saw  that  all 
the  letters  were  from  strangers,  except  one  from  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray, which  she  eagerly  opened.  The  contents  were  melan- 
choly and  unexpected.  Mr.  Hammond  had  been  very  ill 
for  weeks,  was  not  now  in  immediate  danger,  but  was  con- 
fined to  his  room  ;  and  the  physicians  thought  that  he 
would  never  be  well  again.  He  had  requested  Mrs.  Murray 
to  write,  and  beg  Edna  to  come  to  him,  and  remain  in  his 
house.  Mrs.  Powell  was  in  Europe  with  Gertrude  and  Gor- 
don, and  the  old  man  was  alone  in  his  home,  Mrs.  Murray 
and  her  son  having  taken  care  of  him  thus  far.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  page  Mr.  Hammond  had  scrawled  almost 
illegibly  :  "  My  dear  child,  I  need  you.  Come  to  me  at 
once." 

Mrs.  Murray  had  added  a  postscript  to  tell  her  that  if 
she  would  telegraph  them  upon  what  day  she  could  ar- 
range to  start,  Mr.  Murray  would  come  to  New- York  for 
her. 

Edna  put  the  letter  out  of  sight,  and  girded  herself  for  a 
desperate  battle  with  her  famishing  heart,  which  bounded 
wildly  at  the  tempting  joys  spread  almost  within  reach. 
The  yearning  to  go  back  to  the  dear  old  parsonage,  to  the 
revered  teacher,  to  cheer  and  brighten  his  declining  days ; 
and,  above  all,  to  see  Mr.  Murray's  face,  to  hear  his  voice 
once  more,  oh !  the  temptation  was  strong  indeed,  and  the 
cost  of  resistance  bitter  beyond  precedent.  Having  heard 
incidentally  of  the  reconciliation  that  had  taken  place,  she 
knew  why  Mr.  Hammond  so  earnestly  desired  her  presence 
in  a  house  where  Mr.  Murray  now  spent  much  of  his  time ; 
she  knew  all  the  arguments,  all  the  pleadings  to  which  she 
must  listen,  and  she  dared  not  trust  her  heart. 

"  Enter  not  into  temptation  !"  was  the  warning  which 
ehe  uttered  again  and  again  to  her  own  soul ;  and  though 


81.   ELMO.  451 

§he  feared  the  pastor  would  be  pained,  she  fe.t  tlat  Lo 
would  not  consider  her  ungrateful — knew  that  his  warm, 
tender  heart  would  understand  hers. 

Though  she  had  always  studiously  endeavored  U  exp*i 
Mr.  Murray  from  her  thoughts,  there  came  hours  whin  his 
image  conquered ;  when  the  longing,  the  intense  wish  to 
see  him  was  overmastering;  when  she  felt  that  she  would 
give  ten  years  of  her  life  for  one  long  look  into  his  face,  01 
for  a  picture  of  him. 

Now  when  she  had  only  to*  say,  "  Come  !"  and  he  would 
be  with  her,  she  sternly  denied  her  starving  heart,  and  in- 
stead of  bread  gave  it  stones  and  serpents. 

She  took  her  pen  to  answer  the  letter,  but  a  pang  which 
she  had  learned  to  understand  told  her  that  she  was  not 
now  strong  enough  ;  and,  swallowing  some  medicine  which 
Dr.  Howell  had  prescribed,  she  snatched  up  a  crimson 
scarf  and  went  down  to  the  beach. 

The  serenity  of  her  countenance  had  broken  up  in  a  feai  - 
ful  tempest,  and  her  face  writhed  as  she  hurried  along  to 
overtake  Felix.  Just  now  she  dreaded  to  be  alone,  and  yet 
the  only  companionship  she  could  endure  was  that  of  the 
feeble  cripple,  whom  she  had  learned  to  love,  as  woman 
can  love  only  when  all  her  early  idols  are  in  the  dust. 

"  Wait  for  me,  Felix  !" 

The  boy  stopped,  turned,  and  limped  back  to  meet  her, 
for  there  was  a  strange,  pleading  intonation  in  her  mourn- 
fully sweet  voice. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Miss  Earl  ?     You  look  troubled." 

"  I  only  want  to  walk  with  you,  for  I  feel  lonely  this 
evening." 

"  Miss  Earl,  have  you  seen  Sir  Roger  Percival  ?" 

"  No,  no  ;  why  should  I  see  him  ?  Felix,  my  darling, 
my  little  brother !  do  not  call  me  Miss  Earl  any  longer. 
Call  me  Edna.  Ah  child  !  I  am  utterly  alone  ;  I  must 
have  somebody  to  love  me.     My  heart  turns  to  you." 

She   passed    her   arm   around  the  boy's  shoulders  and 


452  ST.  ELMO. 

leaned  against  him,  while  he  rested  on  his  crutches  at.d 
looked  up  at  her  with  fond  pride. 

"  Edna !  I  have  wanted  to  call  you  so  since  the  day  I 
first  saw  you.  You  know  very  well  that  I  love  you  better 
than  every  thing  else  in  the  world.  If  there  is  any  good  in 
me,  I  shall  have  to  thank  you  for  it ;  if  ever  I  am  useful,  it 
will  be  your  work.  I  am  Avicked  still ;  but  I  never  look  at 
you  without  trying  to  be  a  better  boy.  You  do  not  need 
me — you  who  are  so  great  and  gifted;  whose  writings 
every  body  reads  and  admires  ;  whose  name  is  already  cele- 
brated. Oh !  you  can  not  need  any  one,  and,  least  of  all,  a 
poor  little  helpless  cripple  !  who  can  only  worship  you,  and 
love  the  sound  of  your  voice  better  than  all  the  music  that 
ever  was  played  !  If  I  thought  that  you,  Miss  Earl — 
whose  book  all  the  world  is  talking  about — if  I  thought 
you  really  cared  for  me — O  Edna !  Edna !  I  believe  my 
heart  would  be  too  big  for  my  poor  little  body !" 

"  Felix,  we  need  each  other.  Do  you  suppose  I  would 
have  followed  you  out  here, if  I  did  not  prefer  your  society 
to  that  of  others  ?" 

"  Something  has  happened  since  you  sang  the  *  Three 
Fishers'  and  sat  looking  out  of  the  window  an  hour  ago. 
Your  face  has  changed.  What  is  it,  Edna  ?  Can't  you 
trust  me  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  received  a  letter  which  troubles  me.  It  an- 
nounces the  feeble  health  of  a  dear  and  noble  friend,  who 
writes  begging  me  to  come  to  him,  and  nurse  and  remain 
with  him  as  long  as  he  lives.  You  need  not  start  and 
shiver  so — I  am  not  going.  I  shall  not  leave  you ;  but  it 
distresses  me  to  know  that  he  has  asked  an  impossible 
thing.  Now  you  can  understand  why  I  did  not  wish  to  :jo 
alone." 

She  leaned  her  cheek  down  on  the  boy's  head,  and  both 
stood  silent,  looking  over  the  wide  heaving  waste  of  imme- 
morial waters. 

A  glowing  orange  sky  overarched  an  orange  ocean,  which 


ST.   VLMv.  453 

slowly  became  in  turn  ruby,  and  rose,  and  violet,  and  L.<eaily 
gray,  powdered  with  a  few#  dim  stars.  As  the  rising  waves 
broke  along  the  beach,  the  stiffening  breeze  bent  the  spray 
till  it  streamed  like  silvery  plumes ;  and  the  low  musical 
murmur  swelled  to  a  monotonous  moan,  that  seemed  to 
come  over  the  darkening  waters  like  wails  of  the  lost  from 
some  far,  far  "  isles  of  the  sea." 

Awed  by  the  mysterious  solemnity  which  ever  broods 
over  the  ocean,  Felix  slowly  repeated  that  dirge  of  Tenny 
eon's,  "  Break,  break,  break  !"  and  when  he  commenced 
the  last  verse,  Edna's  voice,  low  and  quivering,  joined  bis. 
As  if  evoked  from  his  lonely  storm-lashed  lair,  Varuua 
reared  his  head  against  the  amber  west,  and  shook  his 
snowy  foam-locks  on  the  evening  wind,  and  roared  ;  while 
dim,  weird,  vast,  and  mystically  blue  as  Egypt's  Amon,  the 
monstrous  outline  writhed  in  billowy  folds  along  the  entire 
horizon. 

Out  of  the  eastern  sea,  up  through  gauzy  clond-bars,  rose 
the  moon,  round,  radiant,  almost  full,  shaking  off  the  mists, 
burnishing  the  waves  with  a  ghostly  lustre. 

The  wind  rose  and  fluttered  Edna's  scarlet  scarf  like  a 
pirate's  pennon,  and  the  low  moan  became  a  deep,  sullen, 
ominous  mutter. 

"  There  will  be  a  gale  before  daylight ;  it  is  brewing 
down  yonder  at  the  south-west.  The  wind  has  veered  since 
we  came  out.  There  !  did  you  notice  what  a  savage  snort 
there  was  in  that  last  gust  ?" 

Felix  pointed  to  the  distant  water-line,  where  now  and 
then  a  bluish  flash  of  lightning  showed  the  teeth  of  the 
storm  raging  far  away  under  southern  constellations,  ex- 
tinguishing for  a  time  the  golden  flame  of  Can  opus. 

"  Yes,  you  must  go  in,  Felix.  I  ought  not  to  have  kept 
you  out  so  long." 

Reluctantly  she  turned  from  the  beach,  and  fcl  ey  had  pro- 
ceeded but  a  few  yards  in  the  direction  of  the  house  when 
they  met  Mrs.  Andrews,  and  her  guest 


454  ST-  ELMO. 

"  Felix,  my  son  !  Too  late,  too  late  for  you  !  Come  i» 
with  me.  Miss  Earl,  as  you  are  so  fond  of  the  beach,  I 
hope  you  will  show  Sir  Roger  all  its  beauties.  1  commit 
him  to  your  care." 

She  went  toward  the  house  with  her  boy,  and  as  Sir 
Roger  took  Edna's  hand  and  bent  forward,  looking  eagerly 
into  her  face,  she  saw  a  pained  and  startled  expression  cross 
his  own. 

"  Miss  Earl,  did  you  receive  a  letter  from  me,  written  im- 
mediately after  the  perusal  of  your  book  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sir  Roger,  and  your  cordial  congratulations  and 
flattering  opinion  were,  I  assure  you,  exceedingly  gratify- 
ing, especially  as  you  were  among  the  first  who  found  any 
thing  in  it  to  praise." 

"  You  have  no  idea  with  what  intense  interest  I  have 
watched  its  reception  at  the  hands  of  the  press,  and  I  think 
the  shallow,  flippant  criticisms  were  almost  as  nauseous  to 
me  as  they  must  have  been  to  you.  Your  book  has  had  f» 
fierce  struggle  with  these  self-consecrated,  red-handed,  high- 
priests  of  the  literary  Yaraa ;  but  its  success  is  now  estab- 
lished, and  I  bring  you  news  of  its  advent  in  England, 
where  it  has  been  republished.  You  can  well  afford  to  ex- 
claim with  Drayton : 

'  We  that  calumnious  critic  may  eschew, 

That  blasteth  all  things  with  his  poisoned  breath, 
Detracting  what  laboriously  we  do 

Only  with  that  which  he  but  idly  saith.' 

The  numerous  assaults  made  upon  you  reminded  me  con- 
stantly of  the  remarks  of  Blackwood  a  year  or  two  since : 
'Formerly  critics  were  as  scarce  and  formidable,  and  con- 
sequently as  Avell  known,  as  mastiffs  in  a  country  parish  ; 
but  now  no  luckless  traveller  can  show  his  face  in  a  village 
without  finding  a  whole  pack  yelping  at  his  heels.'  Fortu- 
nately, Miss  Earl,  though  they  show  their  teeth,  and  are 
evidently  anxious  to  mangle,  they  are.  not  strong  enough  to 


ST.  ELMO.  455 

do  much  harm.     Have    you  answered"    any  of   these    at- 
tacks ?" 

"  No,  sir.  Had  I  ever  commenced  filling  the  sieve  of  the 
Danaides,  I  should  have  time  for  nothing  else.  If  you  will 
not  regard  me  as  exceedingly  presumptuous,  and  utterly 
ridiculous  by  the  comparison,  I  will  add  that,  with  refer 
ence  to  unfavorable  criticism,  I  have  followed  the  illustrious 
example  of  Buffon,  who  said,  when  critics  opened  their 
batteries,  '  Je  n'ai  jamais  repondu  a  aucune  critique,  et  je 
garderai  le  meme  silence  sur  celle-ci.''  " 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Earl,  I  see  that  you  have  been  ac- 
cused of  plagiarizing.  Have  you  not  refuted  this  state- 
ment ?" 

"  Again  I  find  Buffon's  words  rising  to  answer  for  me, 
as  they  did  for  himself  under  similar  circumstances,  iH 
vaut  mieux  laisser  ces  mauvaises  gens  dans  V  incertitude  ! ' 
Moreover,  sir,  I  have  no  right  to  complain,  for  if  it  is  neces- 
sary in  well-regulated  municipalities  to  have  inspectors  of 
all  other  commodities,  why  not  of  books  also  ?  I  do  not 
object  to  the  rigid  balancing — I  wish  to  pass  for  no  more 
than  I  weigh  ;  but  I  do  feel  inclined  to  protest  sometimes, 
Avhen  I  see  myself  denounced  simply  because  the  scales  are 
too  small  to  hold  what  is  ambitiously  piled  upon  them,  and 
my  book  is  either  thrown  out  pettishly,  or  whittled  and 
scraped  down  to  fit  the  scales.  The  storm,  Sir  Roger,  was 
very  severe  at  first — nay,  it  is  not  yet  ended ;  but  I  hope,  I 
believe  I  have  weathered  it  safely.  If  my  literary  bark 
had  proved  unworthy,  and  sprung  a  leak  and  foundered,  it 
would  only  have  shown  that  it  did  not  deserve  to  live ;  that 
it  was  better  it  should  go  down  alone  and  early,  than  when 
attempting  to  pilot  others  on  the  rough  unknown  sea  of 
letters.  I  can  not  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  critics 
are  more  abundant  now  than  formerly.  More  books  are 
written,  and  consequently  more  are  tabooed ;  but  the  his- 
tory of  literature  proves  that,  from  the  days  of  Congreve, 


456  ST.  ELMO. 

'  Critics  to  plays  for  the  same  end  resort 
That  surgeons  wait  on  trials  in  a  court ; 
For  innocence  condemned  they've  no  respect 
Provided  they've  a  body  to  dissect.' 

After  all,  it  can  not  be  denied  that  some  of  the  best  por- 
tions of  Byron's  and  Pope's  writings  were  scourged  out  of 
them  by  the  scorpion  thongs  of  adverse  criticism  ;  and  the 
virulence  of  the  JCenie?i  Sturm  waged  by  Schiller  and 
Goethe  against  the  army  of  critics  who  assaulted  them,  at- 
tests the  fact  that  even  appreciative  Germany  sometimes 
nods  in  her  critical  councils.  Certainly  I  have  had  my  share  of 
scourging ;  for  my  critics  have  most  religiously  observed 
the  warning  of  '  spare  the  rod  and  spoil  the  child ;'  and 
henceforth,  if  my  writings  are  not  model,  well-behaved, 
puritanical  literary  children,  my  censors  must  be  exoner- 
ated from  all  blame,  and  I  will  give  testimony  in  favor  of 
the  zeal  and  punctuality  of  these  self-elected  officials  of  the 
public  whipping-post.  The  canons  have  not  varied  one 
iota  for  ages  ;  if  authors  merely  reflect  the  ordinary  normal 
aspects  of  society,  without  melodramatic  exaggeration  or 
ludicrous  caricature,  they  are  voted  trite,  humdrum,  com- 
monplace, and  live  no  longer  than  their  contemporaries. 
If  they  venture  a  step  in  advance,  and  attempt  to  lead,  to 
lift  up  the  masses,  or  to  elevate  the  standard  of  thought  and 
extend  its  range,  they  are  scoffed  at  as  pedants,  and  die  un- 
honored  prophets  ;  and  just  as  the  tomb  is  sealed  above 
them,  people  peer  more  closely  into  their  books,  and  whis- 
per, '  There  is  something  here  after  all ;  great  men  have 
been  among  us.'  The  next  generation  chants  pseans,  and 
casts  chaplets  on  the  graves,  and  so  the  world  rings  with 
the  names  of  ghosts,  and  fame  pours  generous  libations  to 
appease  the  manes  of  genius  slaughtered  on  the  altar  of 
criticism.  Once  Schiller  said,  'Against  public  stupidity 
the  gods  themselves  are  powerless.'  Since  then,  that  same 
public  lifted  him  to  the  pedestal  of  a  demi-god ;  now  all 
Germany  proudly  claims  him ;  and  who  shall  tell  us  where 


ST.  ELMO.  457 

sleep  his  long-forgotten  critics  ?  Such  has  been  the  history 
of  the  race  since  Homer  groped  through  vine-clad  Chios, 
and  poor  Dante  was  hunted  from  city  to  city.  If  the  great 
hierarchs  of  literature  are  sometimes  stabbed  while  minis- 
tering at  the  shrine,  what  can  we  humble  acolytes  expect 
but  to  be  scourged  entirely  out  of  the  temple  ?  We  all  get 
our  dues  at  last ;  for  yonder,  among  the  stars,  Astraaa  laughs 
at  man's  valuations,  and  shakes  her  infallible  balance  and 
re-weighs  us." 

She  had  crossed  her  arms  on  the  low  stone  wall  that  in- 
closed the  lawn,  and  bending  forward,  the  moon  shone  full 
on  her  face,  and  her  eyes  and  her  thoughts  went  out  to  sea. 
Her  companion  stood  watching  her  countenance,  and  some 
strange  expression  there  recalled  to  his  mind  that  vivid 
description  : 

"  And  then  she  raised  her  head,  and  upward  cast 
Wild  looks  from  homeless  eyes,  whose  liquid  light 
Gleamed  out  between  deep  folds  of  blue  black  hair, 
As  gleam  twin  lakes  between  the  purple  peaks 
Of  deep  Parnassus,  at  the  mournful  moon." 

After  a  short  silence,  Sir  Roger  said  : 

"  Miss  Earl,  I  can  find  no  triumph  written  on  your  fea- 
tures, and  I  doubt  whether  you  realize  how  inordinately 
proud  your  friends  are  of  your  success." 

"  As  yet,  sir,  it  is  not  assured.  My  next  book  will  de- 
termine my  status  in  literature ;  and  I  have  too  much  to  ac- 
complish— I  have  achieved  too  little,  to  pause  and  look 
back,  and  pat  my  own  shoulder,  and  cry,  Io  triumphe!  I 
am  not  so  indifferent  as  you  seem  to  imagine.  Praise  grat- 
ifies, and  censure  pains  me ;  but  I  value  both  as  mere  gauges 
of  my  work,  indexing  the  amount  of  good  I  may  or  may 
not  hope  to  effect.  I  wish  to  be  popular — that  is  natural, 
and,  surely,. pardonable  ;  but  I  desire  it  not  as  an  end,  but 
as  a  means  to  an  end — usefulness  to  my  fellow-creatures ; 

'  And  whether  crowned  or  crownless,  when  I  fall, 
It  matters  not,  so  as  God's  work  is  done.' 


458  ST-  ELMO. 

I  love  my  race,  I  honor  my  race;  I  belkve  tint  hint  an 
nature,  sublimated  by  Christianity,  is  capable  ot  attaining 
nobler  heights  than  pagan  philosophers  and  infidel  seers 
ever  dreamed  of.  And  because  my  heart  yearns  toward 
my  fellow-creatures,  I  want  to  clasp  one  hand  in  the  warm 
throbbing  palm  of  sinful  humanity,  and  with  the  other  hold 
up  the  lamp  that  God  gave  me  to  carry  through  this  world, 
and  so  struggle  onward,  heavenward,  with  this  genei'ation 
of  men  and  women.  I  claim  no  clear  Uriel  vision,  now  and 
then  I  stumble  and  grope  ;  but  at  least  I  try  to  keep  my 
little  lamp  trimmed,  r*nd  I  am  not  so  blind  as  some,  who 
reel  and  stagger  in  the  Maremme  of  ci'ime  and  fashionable 
vice.  As  a  pilgrim  toiling  through  a  world  of  sinful  temp- 
tation, and  the  night  of  time  where  the  stars  are  often 
shrouded,  I  cry  to  those  beyond  and  above  me,  '  Hold  high 
your  lights,  that  I  may  see  my  way  !'  and  to  those  behind  and 
below  me,  '  Brothers  !  sisters  !  come  on,  come  up  !'  Ah ! 
these  steeps  of  human  life  are  hard  enough  to  climb  when 
each  shares  his  light  and  divides  his  neighbor's  grievous 
burden.  God  help  us  all  to  help  one  another  !  Mecca  pil- 
grims stop  in  the  Valley  of  Muna  to  stone  the  devil;  some- 
times I  fear  that  in  the  Muna  of  life  we  only  stone  each 
other  and  martyr  Stephen.  Last  week  I  read  a  lecture  on 
architecture,  and  since  then  I  find  myself  repeating  one  of 
the  passages :  '  And  therefore,  lastly  and  chiefly,  you  must 
love  the  creatures  to  whom  you  minister,  your  fellow-men ; 
for  if  you  do  not  love  them,  not  only  will  you  be  little  inter- 
ested in  the  passing  events  of  life,  but  in  all  your  gazing  at 
humanity,  you  will  be  apt  to  be  struck  only  by  outside 
form,  and  not  by  expression.  It  is  only  kindness  and  ten- 
derness which  will  ever  enable  you  to  see  what  beauty 
there  is  in  the  dark  eyes  that  are  sunk  with  weeping,  and 
in  the  paleness  of  those  fixed  faces  which  the  earth's  adver- 
sity has  compassed  about,  till  they  shine  in  their  patience 
like  dying  watch-fires  through  twilight.'  In  some  sort  I 
think  we  are  all  mechanics — moral  architects,  designing  as 


ST.  ELMO.  459 

apprentices  en  the  sands  of  time  that,  which  as  master 
builders,  we  shall  surely  erect  on  the  jasper  pavements  of 
eternity.     So  let  us  all  heed  the  noble  words." 

She  seemed  talking  rather  to  herself,  or  to  the  surging 
sea  where  her  eyes  rested,  than  to  Sir  Roger ;  and  as  he 
noticed  the  passionless  pallor  of  her  face,  he  sighed,  and 
put  his  hand  on  hers. 

"  Come,  walk  with  me  on  the  beach,  and  let  me  tell  you 
why  I  came  back  to  New- York,  instead  of  sailing  from  Can- 
ada, as  I  once  intended." 

A  half-hour  elapsed,  and  Mrs.  Andrews,  who  was  sitting 
alone  on  the  piazza,  saw  the  governess  coming  slowly  up 
the  walk.  As  she  ascended  the  steps, the  lady  of  the  house 
exclaimed  : 

"  Where  is  Sir  Roger  ?" 

"  He  has  gone." 

"  Well,  my  dear !  Pardon  me  for  anticipating  you,  but 
as  I  happen  to  know  all  about  the  affair,  accept  my  con- 
gratulations.    You  are  the  luckiest  woman  in  America." 

Mrs.  Andrews  put  her  arm  around  Edna's  waist,  but 
something  in  the  countenance  astonished  and  disappointed 
her. 

"Mrs.  Andrews,  Sir  Roger  sails  to-morrow  for  England. 
He  desired  me  to  beg  that  you  would  excuse  him  for  not 
coming  in  to  bid  you  good-bye." 

"  Sails  to-morrow  !     When  does  he  return  to  America  ?" 

"  Probably  never." 

"Edna  Earl,  you  are  an  idiot!  You  may  have  any 
amount  of  genius,  bxit  certainly  not  one  grain  of  common- 
sense  !  I  have  no  patience  with  you !  I  had  set  my  heart 
on  seeing  you  his  wife." 

"  But,  unfortunately  for  me,  I  could  not  set  my  heart  on 
him.  1  am  very  sorry;  I  wish  we  had  never  met,  for  in- 
deed I  like  Sir  Roger ;  but  it  is  useless  to  discuss  what  ia 
past  and  irremediable.     Where  are  the  children  ?" 

"  Asleep,  I  suppose.  After  all,  show  me  '  a  gifted  woman* 
a  genius,'  and  I  will  show  you  a  fool." 


460  ST.  ELMO. 

Mrs.  Andrews  bit  her  lip,  and  walked  oJF;  and  Edna 
went  up-stairs  to  Felix's  room. 

The  hoy  was  sitting  by  the  open  window,  w: itching  the 
gray  clouds  trailing  across  the  moon,  checkering  the  face  of 
the  mighty  deep,  now  with  shadow,  now  with  sheen.  So 
absorbed  was  he  in  his  communing  with  the  mysterious  spirit 
of  the  sea,  that  he  did  not  notice  the  entrance  of  the  gover- 
ness, until  he  felt  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Ah !  have  you  come  at  last  ?  Edna,  I  was  wishing  for 
you  a  little  while  ago,  for  as  I  sat  looking  over  the  waves, 
a  pretty  thought  came  into  my  mind,  and  I  want  to  tell 
you  about  it.  Last  week,  if  you  remember,  we  were  read- 
ing about  Antony  and  Cleopatra ;  and  just  now,  while  I 
was  watching  a  large  star  yonder,  making  a  shining  track 
across  the  sea,  a  ragged,  hungry-looking  cloud  crept  up,  and 
nibbled  at  the  edge  of  the  star,  and  swallowed  it !  And  I 
called  the  cloud  Cleopatra  swallowing  her  pearl !" 

Edna  looked  wonderingly  into  the  boy's  bright  eyes,  and 
drew  his  head  to  her  shoulder. 

"  My  dear  Felix,  are  you  sure  you  never  heard  that  same 
thought  read  or  quoted  ?  It  is  beautiful,  but  this  is  not  the 
first  time  I  have  heard  it.  Think,  my  dear  little  boy ;  try 
to  remember  where  you  saw  it  written." 

"  Indeed,  Edna,  I  never  saw  it  anywhere.  I  am  sure  I 
never  heard  it  either;  for  it  seemed  quite  new  when  it 
bounced  into  my  mind  just  now.  Who  else  ever  thought 
of  it  ?" 

"Mr.  Stanyan  Bigg,  an  English  poet,  whose  writings  are 
comparatively  unknown  in  this  country.  His  works  I  have 
never  seen,  but  I  read  a  review  of  them  in  an  English  book, 
which  contained  many  extracts ;  and  that  pretty  metaphor 
which  you  used  just  now,  was  among  them." 

"  Is  that  review  in  our  library  ?" 

"  No,  I  am  sure  it  is  not ;  but  you  may  have  seen  the 
lines  quoted  somewhere  else." 

"  Edna,  I  am  very  certain  I  never  heard  it  before.     Do 


ST.  ELMO  t  461 

you  recollect  how  it  is  written  in  the  Englishman's  poem? 
If  you  can  repeat  it,  I  shall  know  instantly,  because  my 
memory  is  very  good." 

"  I  think  I  can  give  you  one  stanza,  for  I  read  it  when  1 
was  in  great  sorrow,  and  it  made  an  impression  upon  me : 

'  The  clouds,  like  grim  black  faces,  come  and  go  ; 

One  tall  tree  stretches  up  against  the  sky  ; 
It  lets  the  rain  through,  like  a  trembling  hand 

Pressing  thin  fingers  on  a  watery  eye. 
The  moon  came,  but  shrank  back,  like  a  young  girl 

Who  has  burst  in  upon  funereal  sadness ; 
One  star  came — Cleopatra-like,  the  Night 

Swallowed  this  one  pearl  in  a  fit  of  madness  !' " 

"Well,  Felix,  you  are  a  truthful  boy,  and  I  can  trust 
you !" 

"  I  never  heard  the  poetry  before,  and  I  tell  you,  Edna, 
the  idea  is  just  as  much  mine  as  it  is  Mr.  Bigg's !" 

"I  believe  you.  Such  coincidences  are  rare,  and  people 
are  very  loath  to  admit  the  possibility ;  but  that  they  do 
occasionally  occur,  I  have  no  doubt.  Perhaps  some  day 
when  you  write  a  noble  poem,  and  become  a  shining  light 
in  literature,  you  may  tell  this  circumstance  to  the  world ; 
and  bid  it  beware  how  it  idly  throws  the  charge  of  plagiar- 
ism against  the  set  teeth  of  earnest,  honest  workers." 

"Edna,  I  look  at  my  twisted  feet  sometimes,  and  feel 
thankful  that  it  is  my  body,  not  my  mind,  that  is  deformed. 
If  I  am  ever  able  to  tell  the  world  any  thing,  it  will  be  how 
much  I  owe  you ;  for  I  trace  all  holy  thoughts  and  pretty 
ideas  to  you  and  your  music  and  your  writings." 

They  sat  there  awhile  in  silence,  watching  heavy  massei 
of  cloud  darken  sea  and  sky ;  and  then  Felix  lifted  his  face 
from  Edna's  shoulder,  and  asked  timidly : 

"  Did  you  send  Sir  Roger  away  ?" 

"  He  goes  to  Europe  to-morrow,  I  believe." 

"  Poor  Sir  Roger !     I  am  sorry  for  him.     I  told  mamma 


462  ST-  elmo. 

you  never  thought  of  him;   that  you  loved  nothing   but 
hooks  and  flowers  and  music." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?" 

"  I  have  watched  you,  and  when  he  was  with  you  I  never 
saw  that  great  shining  light  in  your  eyes,  or  that  strange 
moving  of  your  lower  lip,  that  always  shows  me  when  y<  u 
are  really  glad ;  as  you  were  that  Sunday,  when  the  music 
was  so  grand  ;  or  that  rainy  morning  when  we  saw  the  pic- 
ture of  the  '  Two  Marys  at  the  Sepulchre.'  I  almost  hated 
poor  Sir  Roger,  because  I  was  afraid  he  might  take  you  to 
England ;  and  then,  what  would  have  become  of  me  ?  Oh ! 
the  world  seems  so  different,  so  beautiful,  so  peaceful,  as 
long  as  I  have  you  with  me.  Every  body  praises  you,  and 
is  proud  of  you,  but  nobody  loves  you,  as  I  do." 

He  took  her  hand,  passed  it  over  his  cheek  and  forehead, 
and  kissed  it  tenderly. 

"  Felix,  do  you  feel  at  all  sleepy  ?" 

"  Not  at  all.  Tell  me  something  more  about  the  animal- 
cula  that  cause  that  phosphorescence  yonder — making  the 
top  of  each  wave  look  like  a  fringe  of  fire.  Is  it  true  that 
they  are  little  round  things  that  look  like  jelly — so  small 
that  it  takes  one  hundred  and  seventy,  all  in  a  row,  to 
make  an  inch ;  and  that  a  wine-glass  can  hold  millions  of 
them  ?" 

"  I  do  not  feel  well  enough  to-night  to  talk  about  animal- 
cula.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  one  of  those  terrible  attacks 
I  had  last  winter.  Felix,  please  don't  go  to  bed  for  a  while 
at  least ;  and  if  you  hear  me  call,  come  to  me  quickly.  I 
must  write  a  letter  before  I  sleep,  Sit  here,  will  you,  till  I 
come  back  ?" 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  shrank  from  the  thought 
ol  suffering  alone,  and  felt  the  need  of  a  human  presence. 

"  Edna,  let  me  call  mamma.  I  saw  this  afternoon  that 
you  were  not  well." 

"  No,  it  may  pass  off;  and  I  want  nobody  about  me  but 
you." 


ST.  ELMO.  4G3 

Only  a  narrow  passage  divided  her  room  from  his;  and 
leaving  the  door  open,  she  sat  down  before  her  desk  to  an 
swer  Mr.  Hammond's  appeal. 

As  the  night  wore  on, the  wind  became  a  gale ;  the  fitftd 
bluish  glare  of  the  lightning  showed  fearful  ranks  of  raven- 
ous waves  scowling  over  each  others'  shoulders  ;  a  roar  as 
of  universal  thunder  shook  the  shore,  and  in  the  coral- 
columned  cathedral  of  the  great  deep,  wrathful  ocean 
played  a  wild  and  weird  fugue. 

Felix  waited  patiently,  listening  amid  the  dread  diapa- 
son of  wind  and  wave, for  the  voice  of  his  governess.  But 
no  sound  came  from  the  opposite  room ;  and  at  last, 
alarmed  by  the  solemn  silence,  he  took  up  his'  crutches 
and  crossed  the  passage. 

The  muslin  curtains,  blown  from  their  ribbon  fastenings, 
streamed  like  signals  of  distress  on  the  breath  of  the  tem- 
pest, and  the  lamplight  flickered  and  leaped  to  the  top  of 
its  glass  chimney. 

On  the  desk  lay  twro  letters  addressed  respectively  to 
Mr.  Hammond  and  Mrs.  Murray,  and  beside  them  were 
scattered  half  a  dozen  notes  from  unknown  correspond- 
ents, asking  for  the  autograph  and  photograph  of  the  young 
author. 

Edna  knelt  on  the  floor,  hiding  her  face  in  the  arms 
which  were  crossed  on  the  lid  of  the  desk. 

The  cripple  came  close  to  her  and  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  touched  her  lightly  : 

"  Edna,  are  you  ill,  or  are  you  only  praying  ?" 

She  lifted  her  head  instantly,  and  the  blanched,  weary 
face  reminded  the  boy  of  a  picture  of  Gethsemane,  which 
having  once  seen,  he  could  never  recall  without  a  shudder. 

"  Forgive  me,  Felix  !  I  forgot  that  you  were  waiting— 
forgot  that  I  asked  you  to  sit. up." 

She  rose,  took  the  thin  little  form  in  her  arms,  and  wills* 
pered :. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  kept  you  up  so  long.    The  pain  has  passed 


464  ST.  ELMO. 

away.  I  think  the  danger  is  over  now.  Go  back  to  yo  ni 
room5ard  go  to  sleep  as  soon  as  possible.  Good-night,  my 
darling." 

They  kissed  each  other  and  separated ;  but  the  fury  of 
the  tempest  forbade  all  idea  of  sleep,  and  thinking  of  the 
"  Fisher  Folk  "  exposed  to  its  wrath,  governess  and  pupil 
committed  them  to  Him, who  calmed  the  Galilean  gale. 

"  The  sea  was  all  a  boiling,  seething  froth,  * 

And  God  Almighty's  guns  were  going  off. 
And  the  land  trembled." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 


]HE  Greek  myth  concerning  Demophoon  embodies 
a  valuable  truth,  which  the  literary  career  of 
Edna  Earl  was  destined  to  exemplify.  Harsh 
critics  like  disguised  Ceres  plunged  the  young 
author  into  the  flames  ;  and  fortunately  for  her,  as  no  short- 
sighted, loving  Metanira  snatched  her  from  the  fiery  ordeal, 
she  ultimately  obtained  the  boon  of  immortality.  Her  reg- 
ular contributions  to  the  magazine  enhanced  her  reputa- 
tion, and  broadened  the  sphere  of  her  usefulness. 

Profoundly  impressed  by  the  conviction  that  she  held  her 
talent  in  trust,  she  worked  steadily,  looking  neither  to  right 
nor  left,  but  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  upon  that  day  when  she 
would  be  called  to  render  an  account  to  Him, who  would 
demand  his  own  with  interest.  Instead  of  becoming 
flushed  with  success,  she  grew  daily  more  cautious,  more 
timid,  lest  inadvertence  or  haste  should  betray  her  into 
errors.  Consequently  as  the  months  rolled  away,  each 
magazine  article  seemed  an  improvement  on  the  last,  and 
lifted  her  higher  in  public  favor.  The  blacksmith's  grand 
child  had  become  a  power  in  society. 

Feeling  that  a  recluse  life  would  give  her  only  partial 
glimpses  of  that  humanity  which  she  wished  to  study,  she 
moved  in  the  circle  of  cultivated  friends  who  now  eagerly 
stretched  out  their  arms  to  receive  her  ;  and  "keeping  her- 
self unspotted  from  the  world,"  she  earnestly  scrutinized 
social  leprosy,  and  calmly  watched  the  tendency  of  Amer- 
ican thought  and  feeling. 


466  ST.  ELMO. 

Among  philosophic  minds  she  saw  an  inclination  to 
ignore  the  noble  principles  of  such  systems  as  Sir  William 
Hamilton's,  and  to  embrace  the  modified  and  subtle  mate- 
rialism of  Buckle  and  Mill,  or  the  gross  atheism  of  Buchner 
and  Moleschott.  Positivism  in  philosophy  and  pre-Rapha- 
elitism  in  art,  confronted  her  in  the  ranks  of  the  literary ; 
lofty  idealism  seemed  trodden  down — pawed  over  by  Car- 
lyle's  "  Monster  Utilitaria." 

When  she  turned  to  the  next  social  stratum  she  found 
altars  of  mammon — groves  of  Bael,  shining  Schoe  Dagon — 
set  up  by  business  men  and  women  of  fashion.  Society 
appeared  intent  only  upon  reviving  the  Bhudagagna,  or 
offering  to  propitiate  evil  spirits  ;  and  sometimes  it  seemed 
thickly  sprinkled  with  very  thinly  disguised  refugee  Yezi- 
dees,  who,  in  the  East,  openly  worship  the  devil. 

Statesmen  were  almost  extinct  in  America — a  mere  cor- 
poral's guard  remained,  battling  desperately  to  save  the 
stabbed  constitution  from  the  howling  demagogues  and 
fanatics,  who  raved  and  ranted  where  Washington,  Web- 
ster, and  Calhoun  had  once  swayed  a  free  and  happy  peo- 
ple. Republicanism  was  in  its  death-throes,  and  would 
soon  be  a  dishonored  and  insulted  ghost,  hunted  out  of  the 
land  by  the  steel  bayonets  of  a  centralized  despotism.  The 
old  venerated  barriers  and  well-guarded  outposts  which 
decorum  and  true  womanly  modes'ty  had  erected  on  the 
frontiers  of  propriety, were  swept  away  in  the  crevasse  of 
sans  souci  manners  that  threatened  to  inundate  the  entire 
land  ;  and  latitudinarianism  in  dress  and  conversation  was 
rapidly  reducing  the  sexes  to  an  equality,  dangerous  to 
morals  and  subversive  of  all  chivalric  respect  for  woman. 

A  double-faced  idol,  Fashion  and  Flirtation,  engrossed 
the  homage  of  the  majority  of  females,  while  a  few  mis- 
guided ones,  weary  of  the  inanity  of  the  mass  of  woman- 
hood and  desiring  to  effect  a  reform,  mistook  the  sources  of 
the  evil,  and,  rushing  to  the  opposite  extreme,  demanded 
power,  which,  as  a  privilege,  they  already  possessed,  but  as 
a  right  could  never  extort. 


ST.  ELMO.  467 

A  casual  glance  at  the  surface  of  society  seemdk  justify 
Burke's  conclusion,  that  a  this  earth  is  the  bedlam  of  oui 
system  ;"  but  Edna  looked  deeper,  and  found  much  that 
encouraged  her,  much  that  warmed  and  bound  her  sympa- 
thies to  her  fellow-creatures.  Instead  of  following  the 
beaten  track  she  struck  out  a  new  path,  and  tried  the  pian 
of  denouncing  the  offence,  not  the  offender ;  of  attacking 
the  sin  while  she  pitied  the  sinner. 

Ruthlessly  she  assaulted  the  darling  follies,  the  pet,  vel- 
vet-masked vices  that  society  had  adopted,  and  called  the 
reading  world  to  a  friendly  parley  ;  demanding  that  men 
and  women  should  pause  and  reflect  in  their  mad  career. 
Because  she  was  earnest  and  not  bitter,  because  the  white 
banner  of  Christian  charity  floated  over  the  conference 
ground,  because  she  showed  so  clearly  that  she  loved  the 
race  whose  recklessness  grieved  her,  because  her  rebukes 
were  free  from  scorn,  and  written  rather  in  tears  than  gall, 
people  turned  their  heads  and  stopped  to  listen. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  finally,  after  toiling  over  many 
obstacles,  she  reached  the  vine-clad  valley  of  Eshcol. 

Each  day  brought  her  noble  fruitage,  as  letters  came  from 
all  regions  of  the  country,  asking  for  advice  and  assistance 
in  little  trials  of  which  the  world  knew  nothing.  Over  th6 
young  of  her  own  sex  she  held  a  singular  sway ;  and  or- 
phan girls  of  all  ranks  and  ages  wrote  of  their  respective 
sorrows  and  difficulties,  and  requested  her  kind  counsel. 
To  these  her  womanly  heart  turned  yearningly  ;  and  she 
accepted  their  affectionate  confidence  as  an  indication  of 
her  proper  circle  of  useful  labor. 

Believing  that  the  intelligent,  refined,  modest  Christian 
women  of  the  United  States  were  the  real  custodians  of 
national  purity,  and  the  sole  agents  who  could  successfully 
arrest  the  tide  of  demoralization  breaking  over  the  land, 
she  addressed  herself  to  the  wives,  mothers,  and  daughters 
of  America ;  calling  upon  them  to  smite  their  false  gods, 
and  purify  the  shrines  at  which  they  worshipped.    Jealously 


408  $T-  ELMO. 

fclie  contended  for  every  woman's  right  which  Gud  ani  na. 
ture  had  decreed  the  sex.  The  right  to  be  learned,  wise, 
noble,  useful,  in  woman's  divinely  limited  sphere ;  the 
right  to  influence  and  exalt  the  circle  in  which  she  moved  ; 
the  right  to  mount  the  sanctified  bema  of  her  own  quiet 
hearthstone  ;  the  right  to  modify  and  direct  her  husband's 
opinions,  if  he  considered  her  worthy  and  competent  to 
guide  him ;  the  right  to  make  her  children  ornaments  to 
their  nation,  and  a  crown  of  glory  to  their  race;  the  right 
to  advise,  to  plead,  to  pray  ;  the  right  to  make  her  desk  a 
Delphi,  if  God  so  permitted  ;  the  right  to  be  all  that  the 
phrase  "  noble,  Christian  woman "  means.  But  not  the 
right  to  vote  ;  to  harangue  from  the  hustings  ;  to  trail  her 
heaven-born  purity  through  the  dust  and  mire  of  political 
strife  ;  to  ascend  the  rostra  of  statesmen,  whither  she  may 
send  a  worthy  husband,  son,  or  brother,  but  whither  she 
can  never  go,  without  disgracing  all  womanhood. 

Edna  was  conscious  of  the  influence  she  exerted,  and 
ceaselessly  she  prayed  that  she  might  wield  it  aright. 
While  aware  of  the  prejudice  that  exists  against  literary 
women,  she  endeavored  to  avoid  the  outre  idiosyncrasies 
that  justly  render  so  many  of  that  class  unpopular  and 
ridiculous. 

She  felt  that  she  was  a  target  at  which  all  observers 
aimed  random  shafts;  and  while  devoting  herself  to  study, 
she  endeavored  to  give  due  attention  to  the  rules  of  eti- 
quette, and  the  harmonious  laws  of  the  toilette. 

The  friendship  between  Mr.  Manning  and  herself 
strengthened,  as  each  learned  more  fully  the  character  of 
the  other  ;  and  an  affectionate,  confiding  frankness  marked 
1  heir  intercourse.  As  her  popularity  increased  she  turned 
to  him  more  frequently  for  advice,  for  success  only  ren- 
dered her  cautious  ;  and  day  by  day  she  weighed  more 
carefully  all  that  fell  from  her  pen,  dreading  lest  some  error 
should  creep  into  her  writings  and  lead  others  astray. 

In  her  publisher — an  honorable,  kind-hea' ted,  and  gen* 


ST.  ELMO.  4(53 

erous  gentleman—she  found  a  valued  friend ;  aod  as  lier 
book  sold  extensively,  the  hope  of  a  competency  was  real- 
ized, and  she  was  soon  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  teach- 
ing. She  was  a  pet  with  the  reading  public ;  it  became 
fashionable  to  lionize  her  ;  her  pictures  and  autographs 
were  eagerly  sought  after;  and  the  little,  barefooted  Ten 
nessee  child  had  grown  up  to  celebrity. 

Sometimes  when  a  basket  of  flowers,  or  a  handsome 
book,  or  a  letter  of  thanks  and  cordial  praise  was  received 
from  an  unknown  reader,  the  young  author  was  so  over- 
whelmed with  grateful  appreciation  of  these  little  tokens 
of  kindness  and  affection,  that  she  wept  over  them,  or 
prayed  tremulously  that  she  might  render  herself  more 
worthy  of  the  good  opinion  entertained  of  her  by  strangers. 

Mr.  Manning,  whose  cold,  searching  eye  was  ever  upon 
her,  could  detect  no  exultation  in  her  manner.  She  was 
earnestly  grateful  for  every  kind  word  uttered  by  her  friends 
and  admirers,  for  every  favorable  sentence  penned  about 
her  writings ;  but  she  seemed  only  gravely  glad,  and  was 
as  little  changed  by  praise  as  she  had  been  by  severe  ani- 
madversion. The  sweet,  patient  expression  still  rested  on 
her  face,  and  her  beautiful  eyes  beamed  with  the  steady 
light  of  resignation  rather  than  the  starry  sparkle  of  extrav- 
agant joy. 

Sometimes  when  the  editor  missed  her  at  the  literary  re- 
unions, where  her  presence  always  contributed  largely  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  evening,  and  sought  her  in  the  school- 
room, he  was  often  surprised  to  find  her  seated  beside  Felix, 
reading  to  him  or  listening  to  his  conversation  with  a  de- 
gree of  interest  which  she  did  not  always  offer  to  the  celeb- 
lities  who  visited  her. 

Her  power  over  the  cripple  was  boundless.  His  charac- 
ter was  as  clay  in  her  hands,  and  she  was  faithfully  striving 
to  model  a  noble,  hallowed  life;  for  she  believed  that  he 
was  dest/ned  to  achice  distinction,  and  fondly  hoped  to 


470  ST.  ELMO 

stamp  upon  his  mind  principles  and  aims  that  weald  frue 
tify  abundantly  when  she  was  silent  in  the  grave. 

Mrs.  Andrews  often  told  her  that  she  was  the  only  per 
son  who  had  ever  controlled  or  influenced  the  hoy — that 
she  could  make  him  just  what  she  pleased ;  and  she  devoted 
herself  to  him,  resolved  to  spare  no  toil  in  her  efforts  to  cor- 
rect the  evil  tendencies  of  his  strong,  obstinate,  stormy  na- 
ture. 

His  fondness  for  history,  and  for  all  that  involved  theo- 
ries of  government,  led  his  governess  to  hope  that  at  some 
future  day  he  might  recruit  the  depleted  ranks  of  statesmen 
— that  he  might  reflect  lustre  upon  his  country  ;  and  with 
this  trust  spurring  her  ever  on,  she  became  more  and  more 
absorbed  in  her  schemes  for  developing  his  intellect,  and 
sanctifying  his  heart.  People  wondered  how  the  lovely 
woman,  whom  society  flattered  and  f6ted,  could  voluntarily 
shut  herself  up  in  a  school-room,  and  few  understood  the 
sympathy  which  bound  her  so  firmly  to  the  broad-browed, 
sallow  little  cripple. 

One  December  day,  several  months  after  their  return 
from  the  sea-side,  Edna  and  Felix  sat  in  the  library.  The 
boy  had  just  completed  Prescott's  "  Philip  II.,"  and  the  gov- 
erness had  promised  to  read  to  him  Schiller's  "  Don  Carlos  " 
and  Goethe's  "  Egmont,"  in  order  to  impress  upon  his 
memory  the  great  actors  of  the  Netherland  revolution. 
She  took  up  the  copy  of  "  Don  Carlos,"  and  crossing  his 
arms  on  the  top  of  his  crutches,  as  was  his  habit,  the  pupil 
fixed  his  eyes  on  her  face. 

The  reading  had  continued  probably  a  half-hour,  when 
Felix  heard  a  whisper  at  the  door,  and,  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  saw  a  stranger  standing  on  the  threshold.  He 
partially  rose;  the  movement  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
governess,  and,  as  she  looked  up,  a  ciy  of  joy  rang  through 
the  room.  She  dropped  the  book  and  sprang  forward  with 
open  arms. 

"  O  Mrs.  Murray  !  dear  friend  ! " 


ST.  ELMO.  471 

For  some  moments  they  stood  locked  in  a  waini  etat  :*ace, 
and  as  Felix  limped  out  of  the  room  he  heard  his  governess 
sobbing. 

Mrs.  Murray  held  the  girl  at  arm's  length,  and  as  she 
looked  at  the  wan,  thin  face,  she  exclaimed : 

"My  poor  Edna!  my  dear  little  girl!  why  did  not  you 
lell  me  you  were  ill  ?  You  are  a  mere  ghost  of  your  former 
self.  My  child,  why  did  you  not  come  home  long  ago  ? 
I  should  have  been  here  a  month  earlier,  but  was  detained 
by  Estelle's  marriage." 

Edna  looked  vacantly  at  her  benefactress,  and  her  lips 
whitened  as  she  asked : 

"  Did  you  say  Estelle — was  married  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  She  is  now  in  New- York  with  her  hus- 
band.    They  are  going  to  Paris " 

"  She  married  your "     The  head  fell  forward  on  Mrs. 

Murray's  bosom,  and  as  in  a  dream  she  heard  the  answer: 

"  Estelle  married  that  young  Frenchman,  Victor  De  Sans- 
sure,  whom  she  met  in  Europe.  Edna,  what  is  the  matter  ? 
My  child !" 

She  found  that  she  could  not  rouse  her,  and  in  great 
alarm  called  for  assistance. 

Mrs.  Andrews  promptly  resorted  to  the  remedies  advised 
by  Dr.  Howell ;  but  it  was  long  before  Edna  fully  recov- 
ered, and  then  she  lay  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  her  hands 
clasped  across  her  forehead. 

Mrs.  Murray  sat  beside  the  sofa  weeping  silently,  while 
Mrs.  Andrews  briefly  acquainted  her  with  the  circumstan- 
ces attending  former  attacks.  When  the  latter  was  sum- 
moned from  the  room  and  all  was  quiet,  Edna  looked  up  at 
Mrs.  Murray,  and  tears  rolled  over  her  cheeks  as  she  said : 

"  I  was  so  glad  to  see  you,  the  great  joy  and  the  surprise 
overcame  me.  I  am  not  as  strong  as  I  used  to  be  in  the  old 
happy  days  at  Le  Bocage,  but  after  a  little  I  shall  be  my- 
self. It  is  only  occasionally  that  I  have  these  attacks  of 
faintness*    Put  your  hand  on  my  forehead,  as  you  did  years 


472  ST.  ELMO. 

ago,  and  let  me  think  that  I  am  a  little  child  again.     Oh 
the  unspeakable  happiness  of  being  with  you  once  more !" 

"  Hush !  do  not  talk  now,  you  ai'e  not  strong  enough." 

Mrs.  Murray  kissed  her,  and  tenderly  smoothed  the  hair 
back  from  her  blue-veined  temples,  where  the  blood  still 
fluttered  irregulai'ly, 

For  some  minutes  the  girl's  eyes  wandered  eagerly  over 
her  companion's  countenance,  tracing  there  the  outlines  of 
another  and  far  dearer  face,  and  finding  a  resemblance  be- 
tween mother  and  son  which  she  had  never  noticed  before. 
Then  she  closed  her  eyes  again,  and  a  half  smile  curved 
her  trembling  mouth,  for  the  voice  and  the  touch  of  the 
hand  seemed  indeed  Mr.  Murray's. 

"  Edna,  I  shall  never  forgive  you  for  not  writing  to  me, 
telling  me  frankly  of  your  failing  health." 

"  Oh  !  scold  me  as  much  as  you  please.  It  is  a  luxury  to 
hear  your  voice  even  in  reproof." 

"  I  knew  mischief  would  come  of  this  separation  from 
me.  You  belong  to  me,  and  I  mean  to  have  my  own,  and 
take  proper  care  of  you  in  future.  The  idea  of  your  work- 
ing yourself  to  a  skeleton  for  the  amusement  of  those  who 
care  nothing  about  you  is  simply  preposterous,  and  I  intend 
to  put  an  end  to  such  nonsense." 

"Mrs.  Murray,  why  have  yoa  not  mentioned  Mr.  Ham- 
mond ?     I  almost  dread  to  ask  about  him." 

"  Because  you  do  not  deserve  to  hear  from  him.  A  grateful 
and  affectionate  pupil  you  have  proved,  to  be  sure.  0  Edna ! 
what  has  come  over  you,  child  r  Are  you  so  intoxicated  with 
your  triumphs  that  you  utterly  forget  your  old  friends,  who 
loved  you  when  you  were  unknown  to  the  world  ?  At  first 
I  thought  so.  I  believed  that  you  were  heartless,  like  all 
of  ycur  class,  and  completely  wrapped  up  in  ambitious 
schemes.  But,  my  little  dainng,  I  see  I  wronged  you 
Your  poor  white  face  reproaches  me  for  my  injustice,  and 
I  feel  that  success  has  not  spoiled  you ;  that  you  are  still 
toy  little  Edna — my  sweet  cLdd — my  daughter.     Be  quiet 


ST.  ELMO.  473 

now,  and  listen  to  me,  and  try  to  keep  that  flutter  out  of 
your  lips,  Mr.  Hammond  is  no  worse  than  he  has  been  for 
many  months,  but  he  is  very  feeble,  and  can  not  live  much 
longer.  You  know  very  well  that  he  loves  you  tenderly, 
and  he  says  he  can  not  die  in  peace  without  seeing  you 
once  more.  Every  day,  when  I  go  over  to  the  parsonage, 
his  first  question  is,  '  Ellen,  is  she  coming  ? — have  you 
heard  from  her  ?'  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  him  when 
St.  Elmo  was  reading  your  book  to  him.  It  was  the  copy 
you  sent;  and  when  we  read  aloud  the  joint  dedication  tc 
him  and  to  myself,  the  old  man  wept,  and  asked  for  hit- 
glasses,  and  tried  to  read  it,  but  could  not.     He " 

Edna  put  out  her  hand  with  a  mute  gesture,  which  her 
friend  well  understood,  and  she  paused  and  was  silent; 
while  the  governess  turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and  wept 
softly,  trying  to  compose  herself. 

Ten  minutes  passed,  and  she  said :  "  Please  go  on  now, 
Mrs.  Murray,  and  tell  me  all  he  said.  You  can  have  no 
idea  how  I  haAre  longed  to  know  what  you  all  at  home 
thought  of  my  little  book.  Oh  !  I  have  been  so  hungry  for 
home  praise !  I  sent  the  very  earliest  copies  to  you  and  to 
Mr.  Hammond,  and '  I  thought  it  so  hard  that  you  never 
mentioned  them  at  all." 

"  My  dear,  it  was  my  fault,  and  I  confess  it  freely.  Mr. 
Hammond,  of  course,  could  not  write,  but  he  trusted  to  me 
to  thank  you  in  his  name  for  the  book  and  the  dedication. 
I  was  really  angry  with  you  for  not  coming  home  when  I 
wrote  for  you ;  and  I  was  jealous  of  your  book,  and  would 
not  praise  it,  because  I  knew  you  expected  it.  But  because 
I  was  silent,  do  you  suppose  I  was  not  proud  of  my  little 
girl  ?  If  you  could  have  seen  the  tears  I  shed  over  some 
of  the  eulogies  pronounced  upon  you,  and  heard  all  the 
ugly  words  I  could  not  avoid  uttering  against  some  of  your 
would-be  critics,  you  could  not  doubt  my  thorough  appre- 
ciation of  your  success.  My  dear,  it  is  impossible  to  describe 
Mr.  Hammcnd's   l?light,  as  we  read  your  novel  to  him. 


474  ST-  ELMO. 

Often  he  wou.d  say :  '  St.  Elmo,  read  that  passage  again, 
I  knew  she  was  a  gifted  child,  but  I  did  not  expect  that  she 
would  ever  write  such  a  book  as  this.'  When  we  read  the 
last  chapter  he  was  completely  overcome,  and  said,  repeat- 
edly, '  God  bless  my  little  Edna  !  It  is  a  noble  book,  it 
will  do  good — much  good!'  To  me  it  seems  almost  incred- 
ible that  the  popular  author  is  the  same  little  lame,  crushed 
orphan,  whom  I  lifted  from  the  grass  at  the  railroad  track, 
seven  years  ago." 

Edna  had  risen,  and  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  sofa, 
with  one  hand  supporting  her  cheek,  and  a  tender,  glad 
smile  shining  over  her  features,  as  she  listened  to  the  com- 
mendation of  those  dearer  than  all  the  world  beside.  Mrs. 
Murray  watched  her  anxiously,  and  sighed  as  she  continued : 

"  If  ever  a  woman  had  a  worshipper,  you  certainly  pos- 
sess one  in  Huldah  Reed.  It  would  be  amusing,  if  it  were 
not  touching,  to  see  her  bending  in  ecstasy  over  every 
thing  you  write  ;  over  every  notice  of  you  that  meets  her 
eye.  She  regards  you  as  her  model  in  all  respects.  You 
would  be  surprised  at  the  rapidity  with  which  she  acquires 
knowledge.  She  is  a  pet  of  St.  Elmo's,  and  repays  his  care 
and  kindness  with  a  devotion  that  makes  people  stare  ;  for 
you  know  my  son  is  regarded  as  an  ogre,  and  the  child's 
affection  for  him  seems  incomprehensible  to  those  who  only 
see  the  rough  surface  of  his  character.  She  never  saw  a 
frown  on  his  face,  or  heard  a  harsh  word  from  him,  for  he 
is  strangely  tender  in  his  treatment  of  the  little  thing. 
Sometimes  it  makes  me  start  when  I  hear  her  merry  laugh 
ringing  through  the  house,  for  the  sound  carries  me  far  back 
into  the  past,  when  my  own  children  romped  and  shouted 
at  Le  Bocage.  You  were  always  a  quiet,  demure,  and 
rather  solemn  child  ;  but  this  Huldah  is  a  gay  little  sprite. 
St.  Elmo  is  so  astonishingly  patient  with  her,  that  Estelle 
accuses  him  of  being  in  his  dotage.  O  Edna !  it  would 
make  you  glad  to  see  my  son  and  that  orphan  child  sitting 
together,  reading  the  Bible.     Last  week  I  found  them  in 


m:  elmo.  475 

the  library;  she  was  fast  asleep  with  her  head  01  his  knee, 
and  he  sat  with  his  open  Bible  in  his  hand.  He  is  so 
changed  in  his  manner  that  you  would  scarcely  \ no w  him; 
and  oh !  I  am  so  happy  and  so  grateful,  I  can  never  thank 
God  sufficiently  for  the  blessing !" 

Mrs.  Murray  sobbed,  and  Edna  bent  her  own  head  lower 
in  her  palms. 

For  some  seconds  both  were  silent.  Mrs.  Murray  seated 
herself  close  to  the  governess,  and  clasped  her  arms  around 
her. 

"  Edna,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  all  ?  "Why  did  you 
leave  me  to  find  out  by  accident  that5  which  should  have 
been  confided  to  me  ?" 

The  girl  trembled,  and  a  fiery  spot  burned  on  her  cheeks 
as  she  pressed  her  forehead  against  Mrs.  Murray's  bosom, 
and  said  hastily  : 

"  To  what  do  you  allude  ?" 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  that  my  son  loved  you  and 
wished  to  make  you  his  wife  ?  I  never  knew  what  passed 
between  you  until  about  a  month  ago,  and  then  I  learned  it 
from  Mr.  Hammond.  Although  I  wondered  that  St.  Elmo 
went  as  far  as  Chattanooga  with  you  on  your  way  North, 
I  did  not  su--pect  any  special  interest,  for  his  manner  be- 
trayed none  when,  after  his  return,  he  merely  said  that  he 
found  no  one  on  the  train  to  whose  care  he  could  commit 
you.  Now  I  know  all — know  why  you  left  'Le  Bocage ;' 
and  I  know,  too,  that  in  God's  hands  you  have  been  the 
instrument  of  bringing  St.  Elmo  back  to  his  duty — to  his 
old  noble  self !  O  Edna,  my  child  !  if  you  could  know 
how  I  love  and  thank  you !  How  I  long  to  fold  you  in  my 
arms — so !  and  call  you  my  daughter  !  Edna  Murray — St. 
Elmo's  wife  !  Ah !  how  proud  I  shall  be  of  my  own  daugh- 
ter !  When  I  took  a  little  bruised,  moaning,  homespun- 
clad  girl  into  my  house,  how  little  I  dreamed  that  I  was 
sheltering  unawares  the  angel  who  was  to  bring  back  hap 
piness  to  my  son's  heart, and  peace  to  my  own  !" 


476  ST.  ELMO. 

She  lifted  the  burning  face,  and  kissed  the  quivering  hps 
repeatedly. 

"  Edna,  my  brave  darling !  how  could  you  resist  St. 
Elmo's  pleading  ?  How  could  you  tear  yourself  away  from 
him  ?  Was  it  because  you  feared  that  I  would  not  will- 
ingly receive  you  as  a  daughter  ?  Do  not  shiver  so — an« 
swer  me." 

"  Oh  !  do  not  ask  me  !  Mrs.  Murray  spare  me  !  This  is 
a  subject  which  I  can  not  discuss  with  you." 

"  Why  not,  my  child  ?  Can  you  not  trust  the  mother 
of  the  man  you  love  ?" 

Edna  unwound  the  arms  that  clasped  her,  and  rising, 
walked  away  to  the  mantel-piece.  Leaning  heavily  against  it, 
she  stood  for  some  time  with  her  face  averted,  and  beneath 
the  veil  of  long,  floating  hair  Mrs.  Murray  saw  the  slight 
figure  sway  to  and  fro,  like  a  reed  shaken  by  the  breeze. 

"  Edna,  I  must  talk  to  you  about  a  matter  which  alone 
brought  me  to  New-York.  My  son's  happiness  is  dearer 
to  me  than  my  life,  and  I  have  come  to  plead  with  you,  for 
his  sake  if  not  for  your  own,  at  least  to " 

"  It  is  useless  !  Do  not  mention  his  name  again  !  Oh  ! 
Mrs.  Murray  !  I  am  feeble  to-day ;  spare  me !  Have  mercy 
on  my  weakness  !" 

She  put  out  her  hand  appealingly,  but  in  vain. 

"  One  thing  you  must  tell  me.  Why  did  you  reject 
him  ?" 

Because  I  could  not  respect  his  character.  Oh !  forgive 
me !  You  force  me  to  say  it — because  I  knew  that  he  was 
unworthy  of  any  woman's  confidence  and  affection." 

The  mother's  face  flushed  angrily,  and  she  rose  and  threw 
her  head  back  with  the  haughty  defiance  peculiar  to  her 
family. 

"  Edna  Earl,  how  dare  you  speak  to  me  in  such  terms  oi 
my  own  son  ?  There  is  not  a  woman  on  the  face  of  the 
broad  earth  who  ought  not  to  feel  honored  by  his  prefer- 
ence — who  might  not  be  proud  of  his  hand.     What  right 


ST.  ELMO.  477 

have  you  to  pronounce  him  unworthy  of  fcrus;  ?  Amsver 
me  !" 

"The  right  to  judge  him  from  his  own  account  of  his 
past  life.  The  history  which  he  gave  me  condemns  him. 
His  crimes  made' me  shrink  from  him." 

"  Crimes  !  take  care,  Edna  !  You  must  be  beside  your- 
self! My  son  is  no  criminal!  He  was  unfortunate  and 
rash,  but  his  impetuosity  was  certainly  pardonable  unde* 
the  circumstances." 

"  All  things  are  susceptible  of  palliation  in  a  mother's 
partial  eyes,"  answered  the  governess. 

"  St.  Elmo  fought  a  duel,  and  afterward  carried  on  sev- 
eral flirtations  with  women  who  were  weak  enough  tc 
allow  themselves  to  be  trifled  with  ;  moreover,  I  shall  not 
deny  that  at  one  period  of  his  life  he  was  lamentably  dissi- 
pated ;  but  all  that  happened  long  ago,  before  you  knew  him. 
How  many  young  gentlemen  indulge  in  the  same  things, 
and  are  never  even  reprimanded  by  society,  much  less  de- 
nounced as  criminals  ?  The  world  sanctions  duelling  and 
flirting,  and  you  have  no  right  to  set  your  extremely  rigid 
notions  of  propriety  above  the  verdict  of  modern  society. 
Custom  justifies  many  things  which  you  seem  to  hold  in 
utter  abhorrence.  Take  care  that  you  do  not  find  yourself 
playing  the  Pharisee  on  the  street  corners." 

Mrs.  Murray  walked  up  and  down  the  room  twice,  then 
came  to  the  hearth. 

"  Well,  Edna,  I  am  waiting  to  hear  you." 

"  There  is  nothing  that  I  can  say  which  would  not  wound 
or  displease  you ;  therefore,  dear  Mrs.  Murray,  I  must  be 
silent." 

"  Retract  the  hasty  words  you  uttered  just  now  ;  they 
expressed  more  than  you  intended." 

"  I  can  not !  I  meant  all  I  said.  Offences  against  God's 
law,  which  you  consider  pardonable — and  which  the  world 
winks  at  and  permits,  and  even  defends — I  regard  as  griev- 
ous sins.     I  believe  that  every  man  who  kills  another  in  a 


478  ST.  ELMO. 

duel  deserves  the  curse  of  Cain,  and  should  be  shunned  aa 
a  murderer.  My  conscience  assures  me  that  a  man  who 
can  deliberately  seek  to  gain  a  woman's  heart  merely  to 
gratify  his  vanity,  or  to  wreak  his  hate  by  holding  her  up 
to  scorn,  or  trifling  with  the  love  which  he  has  won,  is  un- 
principled,  and  should  be  ostracized  by  every  true  woman. 
Were  you  the  mother  of  Murray  and  Annie  Hammond,  dc 
you  think  you  could  so  easily  forgive  their  murderer  ?" 

"  Their  father  forgives  and  ti'usts  my  son,  and  you  have 
no  right  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  him.  Do  you  suppose 
that  you  are  holier  than  that  white-haired  saint  whose 
crown  of  glory  is  waiting  for  him  in  heaven  ?  Are  you  so 
much  purer  than  Allan  Hammond  that  you  fear  contamina- 
tion from  one  to  whom  he  clings  ?" 

"  No — no — no  !  You  wrong  me.  If  you  could  know 
how  humble  is  my  estimate  of  myself,  you  would  not  taunt 
me  so  cruelly  ;  you  would  only — pity  me  !" 

The  despairing  agony  in  the  orphan's  voice  touched  Mrs. 
Murray's  proud  heart,  and  tears  softened  the  indignant  ex 
pression  of  her  eyes, as  she  looked  at  the  feeble  form  before 
her. 

"  Edna,  my  poor  child,  you  must  trust  me.  One  thing  I 
must  know — I  have  a  right  to  ask — do  you  not  love  my 
son  ?     You  need  not  blush  to  acknowledge  it  to  me." 

She  waited  awhile,  but  there  was  no  reply,  and  softly  her 
arm  stole  around  the  girl's  waist. 

"  My  daughter,  you  need  not  be  ashamed  of  your  affec- 
tion for  St.  Elmo." 

Edna  lifted  her  face  from  the  low  mantel,  and  clasping 
her  hands  across  her  head,  exclaimed  : 

"  Do  I  love  him  ?  Oh  !  none  but  my  God  can  ever  know 
how  entirely  my  heart  is  his  !  I  have  struggled  against  his 
fascination — oh !  indeed  I  have  wrestled  and  prayed  against 
it !  But  to-day — I  do  not  deceive  myself — I  feel  that  I  love 
him  as  I  can  never  love  any  other  human  being.  You  are 
his  inothe',  and  you  will  pity  me  when  I  tell  you  that  I  fall 


ST.  ELMC  479 

asleep  praying  for  him — that  in  my  ireanu  I  am  with  him 
once  more — that  the  first  thought  on  waking  is  still  of  him. 
What  do  you  suppose  it  cost  me  to  give  him  up  ?  Oh  !  is 
it  hard,  think  you,  to  live  in  the  same  world  and  yet  never 
look  on  his  face,  never  hear  his  voice  ?  God  only  knows 
how  hard  !  If  he  were  dead,  I  could  hear  it  better.  But, 
ah  !  to  live  with  this  great  sea  of  silence  between  us — a 
dreary,  cold,  mocking  sea,  crossed  by  no  word,  no  whisper, 
filled  only  with  slowly,  sadly-sailing  ghosts  of  precious 
memories !  Yes,  yes !  Despite  all  his  unworthiness — de- 
spite the  verdict  of  my  judgment,  and  the  upbraiding  of  ray 
conscience — I  love  him  !  I  love  him  !  You  can  sympathize 
with  me.  Do  not  reproach  me ;  pity  me,  oh  !  pity  me  in  my 
feebleness!" 

She  put  out  her  arms  like  a  weary  child  and  dropped  her 
face  on  Mrs.  Murray's  shoulder. 

"  My  child,  if  you  had  seen  him  the  night  before  I  left 
home,  you  could  not  have  resisted  any  longer  the  prompt- 
ings of  your  own  heart.  He  told  me  all  that  had  ever 
passed  between  you  ;  how  he  had  watched  and  tempted 
you ;  how  devotedly  he  loved  you ;  how  he  reverenced  your 
noble  purity  of  character ;  how  your  influence,  your  exam- 
ple, had  first  called  him  back  to  his  early  faith ;  and  then  he 
covered  his  face  and  said,  '  Mother  !  mother  !  if  God 
would  only  give  her  to  me,  I  could,  I  would  be  a  better 
man  !'  Edna,  I  feel  as  if  my  son's  soul  rested  in  your 
hands  !  If  you  throw  him  off  utterly,  he  may  grow  despe- 
rate, and  go  back  to  his  old  habits  of  reckless  dissipation 
and  blasphemy  ;  and  if  he  should  !  Oh  !  if  he  is  lost  at 
last  I  will  hold  you  accountable,  and  charge  you  before 
God  with  his  destruction  !  Edna,  beware  !  You  have  a 
fetrange  power  over  him ;  you  can  make  him  almost  what 
you  will.  If  you  will  not  listen  to  your  own  suffering 
heart,  or  to  his  love,  hear  me.  Hear  a  mother  pleading  for 
her  son's  eternal  safety  !" 

The  haughty  woman  fell  on  her  knees  before  the  orphan, 


480  ST.  ELMO. 

and  wept,  and  Edna  instantly  knelt  beside  her  and  clung 
to  her. 

"  I  pray  for  him  continually.  My  latest  breath  shall  be 
a  prayer  for  his  salvation.  His  eternal  welfare  is  almost 
as  precious  to  me  as  my  own ;  for  if  I  get  to  heaven  at 
last,  do  you  suppose  I  could  be  happy  even  there  without 
him  ?  But,  Mrs.  Murray,  I  can  not  be  his  wife.  If  he  is 
indeed  conscientiously  striving  to  atone  for  his  past  life,  he 
will  be  saved  without  my  influence  ;  and  if  his  remorseful 
convictions  of  duty  do  not  reform  him,  his  affection  for  me 
would  not  accomplish  it.  Oh  !  of  all  mournful  lots  in  life, 
I  think  mine  is  the  saddest !  To  find  it  impossible  to  tear 
my  heart  from  a  man  whom  I  distrust,  whom  I  can  not 
honor,  whose  fascination  I  dread.  I  know  my  duty  in  this 
matter — my  conscience  leaves  me  no  room  to  doubt — and 
from  the  resolution  which  I  made  in  sight  of  Annie's  grave, 
I  must  not  swerve.  I  have  confessed  to  you  how  com- 
pletely my  love  belongs  to  him,  how  fruitless  are  my  efforts 
to  forget  him.  I  have  told  you  what  bitter  suffering  our 
separation  costs  me,  that  you  may  know  how  useless  it  is 
for  you  to  urge  me.  Ah  !  if  I  can  withstand  the  wailing 
of  my  own  lonely,  aching  heart,  there  is  nothing  else  that 
can  draw  me  from  the  stern  path  of  duty ;  no,  no  !  not 
even  your  entreaties,  dear  Mrs.  Murray,  much  as  I  love 
and  owe  y"ou.  God,  who  alone  sees  all,  will  help  me  to 
bear  my  loneliness.  He  only  can  comfort  and  sustain  me ; 
and  in  His  own  good  time  He  will  save  Mr.  Murray,  and 
send  peace  into  his  troubled  soul.  Until  then  let  us  pray 
patiently." 

Flush  and  tremor  had  passed  away,  the  features  were 
locked  in  rigid  whiteness  ;  and  the  unhappy  mother  saw 
that  further  entreaty  would  indeed  be  but  mockery. 

She  rose  and  paced  the  floor  for  some  moments.  At  last 
Edna  said  : 

"  How  long  will  you  remain  in  New-York  ?" 

"  Two  days.    Edna,  I  came  here  against  my  son's  advice, 


I 


8T.  ELMO.  481 

in  opposition  to  his  wishes,  to  intercede  in  his  behalf  and 
prevail  on  you  to  go  home  with  me.  He  knew  you  better 
it  seems  than  I  did ;  for  he  predicted  the  result,  and  de- 
sired to  save  me  from  mortification ;  but  I  obstinately 
clung  to  the  belief  that  you  cherished  some  feelings  of  affec- 
tionate gratitude  toward  me.  You  have  undeceived  me.  Mr. 
Hammond  is  eagerly  expecting  you,  and  it  will  be  a  keen 
disappointment  to  the  old  man  if  I  return  without  you.  Is 
it  useless  to  tell  you  that  you  ought  to  go  and  see  him  ? 
You  need  not  hesitate  on  St.  Elmo's  account ;  for  unless 
you  wish  to  meet  him,  you  will  certainly  not  see  him.  My 
son  is  too  proud  to  thrust  himself  into  the  presence  of  any 
one,  much  less  into  yours,  Edna  Earl." 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  Mrs.  Murray,  and~  remain  at  the 
parsonage — at  least  for  a  few  weeks." 

"  I  scarcely  think  Mr.  Hammond  will  live  until  spring ; 
and  it  will  make  him  very  happy  to  have  you  in  his  home." 

Mrs.  Murray  wrapped  her  shawl  around  her  and  put  on 
her  gloves. 

"  I  shall  be  engaged  with  Estelle  while  I  am  here,  and 
shall  not  call  again ;  but  of  course  you  will  come  to  the 
hotel  to  see  her,  and  we  will  start  homeward  day  after  to- 
morrow evening." 

She  turned  toward  the  door,  but  Edna  caught  her  dress. 

"  Mrs.  Murray,  kiss  me  before  you  go,  and  tell  me  you 
forgive  the  sorrow  I  am  obliged  to  cause  you  to-day.  My 
burden  is  heavy  enough  without  the  weight  of  your  dis- 
pleasure." 

But  the  proud  face  did  not  relax  ;  the  mother  shook  her 
head,  disengaged  her  dress,  and  left  the  room. 

An  hour  after  Felix  came  in,  and  approaching  the  sofa 
where  his  governess  rested,  said  vehemently  : 

"Is  it  true,  Edna?  Are  you  going  South  with  Mrs. 
Murray  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  am  going  to  see  a  dear  friend  who  is  probably 
dying." 


482  ST-  ELMO. 

"  O  Edna !  what  will  become  of  me  V 
"  I  shall  be  absent  only  a  few  weeks- 


"  I  have  a  horrible  dread  that  if  you  go  you  will  nevei 
come  back !  Don't  leave  me !  Nobody  needs  you  half  as 
much  as  I  do.  Edna,  you  said  once  you  would  never  for- 
sake me.     Remember  your  promise  !" 

"  My  dear  little  boy,  I  am  not  forsaking  you ;  I  shall 
only  be  separated  from  you  for  a  month  or  two  ;  and  it  is 
my  duty  to  go  to  my  sick  friend.  Do  not  look  so  wretched ! 
for  just  so  surely  as  I  live,  I  shall  come  back  to  you." 

"  You  think  so  now ;  but  your  old  friends  will  persuade 
you  to  stay,  and  you  will  forget  me,  and — and " 

He  turned  around  and  hid  his  face  on  the  back  of  his 
chair. 

It  was  in  vain  that  she  endeavored,  by  promises  and 
caresses,  to  reconcile  him  to  her  temporary  absence.  He 
would  not  be  comforted  ;  and  his  tear-stained,  woe-begone, 
sallow  face,  as  she  saw  it  on  the  3vening  of  her  departure, 
pursu3d  her  on  her  journey  South. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 


|]  HE  mocking-bird  sang  as  of  yore  in  the  myrtle- 
boughs  that  shaded  the  study-window,  and  with- 
in the  parsonage  reigned  the  peaceful  repose 
which  seemed  ever  to  rest  like  a  benediction 
upon  it.  A  ray  of  sunshine  stealing  through  the  myrtle- 
leaves  made  golden  ripples  on  the  wall ;  a  bright  wood-fire 
blazed  in  the  wide,  deep,  old-fashioned  chimney ;  the  white 
cat  slept  on  the  rug,  with  her  pink  paws  turned  toward  the 
crackling  flames ;  and  blue  and  white  hyacinths  hung  their 
fragrant  bells  over  the  gilded  edge  of  the  vases  on  the  man- 
tel-piece. Huldah  sat  on  one  side  of  the  hearth  peeling  a 
red  apple  ;  and,  snugly  wrapped  in  his  palm-leaf  cashmere 
dressing-gown,  Mr.  Hammond  rested  in  his  cushioned  easy- 
chair,  with  his  head  thrown  far  back,  and  his  fingers  clasp- 
ing a  large  bunch  of  his  favorite  violets.  His  snowy  hair 
drifted  away  from  a  face  thin  and  pale,  but  serene  and 
happy,  and  in  his  bright  blue  eyes  there  was  a  humorous 
twinkle,  and  on  his  lips  a  half-smothered  smile,  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  witticisms  of  his  Scotch  countrymen  in  "  Noc- 
tes  Ambrosianse." 

Close  to  his  chair  sat  Edna,  reading  aloud  from  the  quaint 
and  inimitable  book  he  loved  so  well,  and  pausing  now  and 
then  to  explain  some  word  which  Huldah  did  not  under 
stand,  or  to  watch  for  symptoms  of  weariness  in  the  counte- 
nance of  the  invalid. 

The  three  faces  contrasted  vividly  in  the  ruddy  glow  of 
the  fire.     That  of  the  little  girl,  round,  rosy,  red-lipped, 


484  .       ST.  ELMO: 

dimpled,  merry-eyed ;  the  aged  pastor's  wrinkled  cheeks 
and  furrowed  brow  and  streaming  silver  beai'd ;  and  the 
carved  ivory  features  of  the  governess,  borrowing  no  color 
from  the  soft  folds  of  her  rich  crimson  merino  dress.  Ah 
daylight  ebbed,  the  ripple  danced  up  to  the  ceiling  and 
vanished,  like  the  pricked  bubble  of  a  human  hope ;  the 
mocking-bird  hushed  his  vesper  hymn ;  and  Edna  closed  th6 
book  and  replaced  it  on  the  shelf. 

Huldah  tied  on  her  scarlet-lined  hood,  kissed  her  friends 
good-bye,  and  went  back  to  Le  Bocage ;  and  the  old  man 
and  the  orphan  sat  looking  at  the  grotesque  flicker  of  thr 
flames  on  the  burnished  andirons. 

"  Edna,  are  you  tired,  or  can  you  sing  some  for  me  ?" 
"  Reading  aloud  rarely  fatigues  me.     What  shall  I  sing  ?' 
"  That  solemn,  weird  thing  in  the  '  Prophet,'  which  suita 
your  voice  so  well." 

She  sang  "Ah,  mon  fits  /"  and  then,  without  waiting  for 
the  request  which  she  knew  would  follow,  gave  him  some 
of  his  favorite  Scotch  songs. 

As  the  last  sweet  strains  of  "  Mary  of  Argyle  "  echoed 
through  the  study,  the  pastor  shut  his  eyes,  and  memory 
flew  back  to  the  early  years  when  his  own  wife  Mary  had 
sung  those  words  in  that  room,  and  his  dead  darlings  clus- 
tered eagerly  around  the  piano  to  listen  to  their  mother's 
music.  Five  fair-browed,  innocent  young  faces  circling 
about  the  idolized  wife,  and  baby  Annie  nestling  in  her 
cradle  beside  the  hearth,  playing  with  her  waxen  fingers 
and  crowing  softly.  Death  had  stolen  his  household  jewels  ; 
but  recollection  robbed  the  grave,  and  music's  magic  touch 
unsealed  "  memory's  golden  urn." 

"  Oh  !  death  in  life,  the  days  that  are  no  more  1" 

Edna  thought  he  had  fallen  asleep,  he  was  so  still,  hia 
face  was  so  placid  ;  and  she  came  softly  back  to  her  chair 
and  looked  at  the  ruby  temples  and  toweii6,  the  glittering 
domes  and  ash-grey  ruined  arcades  built  by  the  oak  coals. 


ST.  ELMO.  435 

A  month  had  elapsed  since  her  arrival  at  the  parsonage, 
and  during  that  short  period  Mr.  Hammond  had  rallied  and 
recovered  his  strength  so  unexpectedly  that  hopes  were 
entertained  'of  his  entire  restoration  ;  and  he  spoke  confi- 
dently of  being  able  to  reenter  his  pulpit  on  Easter  Sunday. 

The  society  of  his  beloved  pupil  seemed  to  render  him 
completely  happy,  and  his  countenance  shone  in  the  blessed 
light  that  gladdened  his  heart.  After  a  long,  dark,  stormy 
day,  the  sun  of  his  life  was  preparing  to  set  in  cloudless 
peace  and  glory. 

Into  all  of  Edna's  literary  schemes  he  entered  eagerly. 
She  read  to  him  the  ms.  of  her  new  book  as  far  as  it  was 
finished,  and  was  gratified  by  his  perfect  satisfaction  with 
the  style,  plot,  and  aim. 

Mrs.  Murray  came  every  day  to  the  parsonage,  but  Edna 
had  not  visited  Le  Bocage  ;  and  though  Mr.  Murray  spent 
two  mornings  of  each  week  with  Mr.  Hammond,  he  called 
at  stated  hours,  and  she  had  not  yet  met  him.  Twice  she 
had  heard  his  voice  in  earnest  conversation,  and  several 
times  she  had  seen  his  tall  figure  coming  up  the  walk,  but 
of  his  features  she  caught  not  even  a  glimpse.  St.  Elmo's 
name  had  never  been  mentioned  in  her  presence  by  either 
his  mother  or  the  pastor,  but  Huldah  talked  ceaselessly  of 
his  kindness  to  her.  Knowing  the  days  on  which  he  came 
to  the  parsonage,  Edna  always  absented  herself  from  the 
invalid's  room  until  the  visit  was  ovei\ 

One  afternoon  she  went  to  the  church  to  play  on  the 
organ ;  and  after  an  hour  of  mournful  enjoyment  in  the  gal- 
lery so  fraught  with  precious  reminiscences,  she  left  the 
church  and  found  Tamerlane  tied  to  the  iron  gate,  but  his 
master  was  not  visible.  She  knew  that  he  was  somewhere 
in  the  building  or  the  yard,  and  denied  herself  the  pleasure 
of  going  there  a  second  time. 

Neither  glance  nor  word  had  been  exchanged  since  they 
parted  at  the  railroad  station,  eighteen  months  before.  She 
longed  to  know  his  opinion  of  her  book,  for  many  passages 


486  -ST.  ELMO. 

had  been  written  wilh  special  reference  to  his  j/erusal;  but 
she  would  not  ask ;  and  it  was  a  sore  trial  to  sit  in  one 
room,  hearing  the  low,  indistinct  murmur  of  his  voice  in  the 
next,  and  yet  never  to  see  him. 

Few  women  could  have  withstood  the  temptation ;  but 
the  orphan  dreaded  his  singular  power  over  her  heart,  and 
dared  not  trust  herself  in  his  presence. 

This  evening,  as  she  sat  with  the  fire-light  shining  on 
her  face,  thinking  of  the  past,  she  could  not  realize  that 
only  two  years  had  elapsed  since  she  came  daily  to  this 
quiet  room  to  recite  her  lessons  ;  for  during  that  time  she 
had  suffered  so  keenly  in  mind  and  body  that  it  seemed  as 
if  weary  ages  had  gone  over  her  young  head.  Involun- 
tarily she  sighed,  and  passed  her  hand  across  her  forehead. 
A  low  tap  at  the  door  diverted  her  thoughts,  and  a  servant 
entered  and  gave  her  a  package  of  letters  from  New- York. 

Every  mail  brought  one  from  Felix ;  and  now  opening  his 
first,  a  tender  smile  parted  her  lips  as  she  read  his  passion- 
ate, importunate  appeal  for  her  speedy  return,  and  saw  that 
the  closing  lines  were  blotted  with  tears.  The  remaining 
eight  letters  were  from  persons  unknown  to  her,  and  con- 
tained requests  for  autographs  and  photographs,  for  short 
sketches  for  papers  in  different  sections  of  the  country,  and 
also  various  inquiries  concerning  the  time  when  her  new  book 
would  probably  be  ready  for  press.  All  were  kind,  friendly, 
gratifying,  and  one  was  eloquent  with  thanks  for  the  good 
effect  produced  by  a  magazine  article  on  a  dissipated,  irre- 
ligious husband  and  father,  who,  after  its  perusal,  had  re- 
solved to  reform,  and  wished  her  to  know  the  beneficial  in- 
fluence which  she  exerted.  At  the  foot  of  the  page  was  a 
line  penned  by  the  rejoicing  wife,  invoking  heaven's  choic- 
est blessings  On  the  author's  head. 

"  Is  not  the  laborer  worthy  of  his  hire  ?"  Edna  felt  that 
her  wages  were  munificent  indeed  ;  that  her  coffers  were 
filling,  and  though  the  "  thank  God  !"  was  not  audible,  the 
great  joy  in  her  uplifted  eyes  attracted  the  attention  of  the 


ST.  ELMO.  487 

paslor,  who  had  been  silently  watching  her,  aid  le  laid  hia 
hand  on  hers. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  ?" 

"  The  reward  God  has  given  me !" 

She  read  aloud  the  contents  of  the  letter,  and  there 
was  a  brief  silence,  broken  at  last  by  Mr.  Hammond. 

"  Edna,  my  child,  are  you  really  happy  ?" 

"  So  happy  that  I  believe  the  wealth  of  California  could 
not  buy  this  sheet  of  paper,  which  assures  me  that  I  have 
been  instrumental  in  bringing  sunshine  to  a  darkened 
household ;  in  calling  the  head  of  a  family  from  haunts  of 
vice  and  midnight  orgies  back  to  his  wife  and  children  ; 
back  to  the  shrine  of  prayer  at  his  own  hearthstone !  I 
have  not  lived  in  vain,  for  through  my  work  a  human  soul 
has  been  brought  to  Jesus,  and  I  thank  God  that  I  am  ac- 
counted worthy  to  labor  in  my  Lord's  vineyard  !  Oh  !  I 
will  wear  that  happy  wife's  blessing  in  my  inmost  heart, 
and  like  those  old  bells  in  Cambridgeshire,  inscribed,  '  Pes- 
tern  fungo  !  Sabbata  pango  ! '  it  shall  ring  a  silvery  chime, 
exorcising  all  gloom,  and  loneliness,  and  sorrow." 

The  old  man's  eyes  filled  as  he  saw  the  almost  unearthly 
radiance  of  the  woman's  lovely  face. 

"  You  have  indeed  cause  for  gratitude  and  great  joy,  as 
you  realize  all  the  good  you  are  destined  to  accomplish ; 
and  I  know  the  rapture  of  saving  souls,  for,  through  God's 
grace,  I  believe  I  have  snatched  some  from  the  brink  of 
ruin.  But  Edna,  can  the  triumph  of  your  genius,  the  ap- 
plause of  the  world,  the  approval  of  conscience,  even  the 
assurance  that  you  are  laboring  successfully  for  the  cause 
of  Christ — can  all  these  things  satisfy  your  womanly  heart — 
your  loving,  tender  heart  ?  My  child,  there  is  a  dreary 
look  sometimes  in  your  eyes,  that  reveals  loneliness,  almost 
weariness  of  life.  I  have  studied  your  countenance  closely 
when  it  was  in  repose ;  I  read  it  I  think  without  errors  ;  and 
as  often  as  I  hear  your  writings  praised,  I  recall  those  lines, 
written  by  one  of  the  noblest  of  your  own  sex: 


428  ST-  ELM0- 

'  To  have  our  books 
Appraised  by  love,  associated  with  love, 
While  we  sit  loveless  1  is  it  hard,  you  think  1 
At  least,  'tis  mournful.' 

Edna,  are  you  perfectly  contented  with  your  lot  ?" 

A  shadow  drifted  slowly  over  the  marble  face,  and 
though  it  settled  on  no  feature,  the  whole  countenance  was 
changed. 

"  I  can  not  say  that  I  am  perfectly  content,  and  yet  I 
would  not  exchange  places  with  any  woman  I  know." 

"  Do  you  never  regret  a  step  which  you  took  one  even- 
ing,yonder  in  my  church?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  do  not  regret  it.  I  often  thank  God  that  I 
was  able  to  obey  my  conscience  and  take  that  step." 

"  Suppose  that  in  struggling  up  the  steep  path  of  duty 
one  soul  needs  the  encouragement,  the  cheering  companion- 
ship which  only  one  other  human  being  can  give  ?  Will 
the  latter  be  guiltless  if  the  aid  is  obstinately  withheld  ?" 

"  Suppose  the  latter  feels  that  in  joining  hands  both 
would  stumble  ?" 

"  You  would  not,  O  Edna !  you  would  lift  each  other  to 
nobler  heights !  Each  life  would  be  perfect,  complete.  My 
child,  will  you  let  me  tell  you  some  things  that  ought 
to " 

She  threw  up  her  hand,  with  that  old,  childish  gesture 
which  he  remembered  so  well,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  N"o,  sir ;  no,  sir !  Please  tell  me  nothing  that  will 
rouse  a  sorrow  I  am  striving  to  drug.  Spare  me,  for  as  St 
Chrysostom  once  said  of  Olympias  the  deaconess,  I  '  live  in 
perpetual  fellowship  with  pain.'  " 

"  My  dear  little  Edna,  as  I  look  at  you  and  think  of  your 
future,  I  am  troubled  about  you.  I  wish  I  could  confi- 
dently say  to  you,  what  St.  Chrysostom  wrote  to  Pentadia : 
'  For  I  know  your  great  and  lofty  soul,  which  can  sail  as 
with  a  fair  wind  through  many  tempests,  and  in  the  midst 
of  the  waves  enjoy  a  xohite  calm?  " 


ST.  ELMO.  489 

•.She  turned  and  took  the  minister's  hand  in  hers,  while 
an  indescribable  peace  settled  on  her  countenance,  and 
stilled  the  trembling  of  her  low,  sweet  voice : 

"  Across  the  gray  stormy  billows  of  life,  that  '  white 
calm '  of  eternity  is  rimming  the  water-line,  coming  to  meet 
me.  Already  the  black  pilot-boat  heaves  in  sight ;  I  hear 
the  signal,  and  Death  will  soon  take  the  helm  and  steer  my 
little  bark  safely  into  the  shining  rest,  into  God's  '  white 
calm.'  " 

She  went  to  the  piano  and  sang,  as  a  solo,  "  Night's 
Shade  no  Longer,"  from  Moses  in  Egypt. 

While  the  pastor  listened,  he  murmured  to  himself: 

"  Sublime  is  the  faith  of  a  lonely  soul, 
In  pain  and  trouble  cherished  ; 
Sublime  the  spirit  of  hope  that  lives 
When  earthly  hope  has  perished." 

She  turned  over  the  sheets  of  music,  hunting  for  a  Ger- 
man hymn  of  which  Mr.  Hammond  was  very  fond,  but  he 
called  her  back  to  the  fire-place. 

"My  dear,  do  you  recollect  that  beautiful  passage  in 
Faber's  'Sights  and  Thoughts  in  Foreign  Churches'? 
'  There  is  seldom  a  line  of  glory  written  upon  the  earth's 
face  but  a  line  of  suffering  runs  parallel  with  it ;  and  they 
that  read  the  lustrous  syllables  of  the  one,  and  stoop  not  to 
decipher  the  spotted  and  worn  inscription  of  the  other,  get 
the  least  half  of  the  lesson  earth  has  to  give.'  " 

w  No,  sir ;  I  never  read  the  book.  Something  in  that 
passage  brings  to  my  mind  those  words  of  Martin  Luther's, 
which  explain  so  many  of  the  'spotted  inscriptions'  of  this 
earth  :  '  Our  Lord  God  doth  like  a  printer,  who  setteth  the 
letters  backward.  We  see  and  feel  well  His  setting,  but 
we  shall  read  the  print  yonder,  in  the  life  to  come !'  Mr. 
Hammond,  it  is  said  that,  in  the  Alexandrian  MS.,  in  the 
British  Museum,  there  is  a  word  which  has  been  subjected 
to  microscopic  examination,  to  determine  whether  it  is  or^ 


490  ST.  ELMO. 

who,  or  dC-  -which  is  the  abbreviation  of  fleo^,  God.  Some 
times  I  think  that  so  ought  we  to  turn  the  lens  oi'  faith 
on  many  dim  perplexing  inscriptions  traced  in  human  his- 
tory, and  perhaps  we  might  oftener  find  God." 

"  Yes,  I  have  frequently  thought  that  the  ms.  of  every 
human  life  was  like  a  Peruvian  Quippo,  a  mass  of  many- 
colored  cords  or  threads,  tied  and  knotted  by  unseen,  and, 
possibly,  angel  hands.  Here,  my  dear,  put  these  violets  in 
water ;  they  are  withering.  By  the  way,  Edna,  I  am  glad 
to  find  that  in  your  writings  you  attach  so  much  importance 
to  the  ministry  of  flowers,  and  that  you  call  the  attention 
of  your  readers  to  the  beautiful  arguments  which  they  fur- 
nish,in  favor  of  the  Christian  philosophy  of  a  divine  design 
in  nature.     Truly, 

'  Tour  voiceless  lips,  0  flowers  !  are  living  preachers, 
Each  cup  a  pulpit,  and  each  leaf  a  book  ; 
Supplying  to  my  fancy  numerous  teachers 
From  lowliest  nqok.' " 

At  this  moment  the  door-bell  rang,  and  soon  after  the 
servant  brought  in  a  telegraphic  dispatch,  addressed  to  Mr. 
Hammond. 

It  was  from  Gordon  Leigh,  announcing  his  arrival  in 
New- York,  and  stating  that  he  and  Gertrude  would  reach 
the  parsonage  some  time  during  the  ensuing  week. 

Edna  went  into  the  kitchen  to  superintend  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  minister's  supper ;  and  when  she  returned  and 
placed  the  waiter  oh  a  table  near  his  chair,  she  told  him 
that  she  must  go  back  to  New- York  immediately  after  the 
arrival  of  Gordon  and  Gertrude,  as  her  services  would  no 
longer  be  required  at  the  parsonage,  and  her  pupils  needed 
her. 

Two  days  passed  without  any  further  allusion  to  a  sub- 
ject which  was  evidently  uppermost  in  Mr.  Hammond's 
mind. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third,  Mrs.  Murray  said,  as  she 
rose  to  conclude  her  visit:  "You  are  so  much  better,  sir, 


ST.  ELMO.  491 

that  1  must  claim  Edna  for  a  day  at  least.  She  has  rot  yet 
been  to  Le  Bocage  ;  and  as  she  goes  away  so  soon,  I  want  to 
take  her  home  with  me  this  morning.  Clara  Inge  promised 
me  that  she  would  stay  with  you  until  evening.  Edna,  get 
your  bonnet.  I  shall  be  entirely  alone  to-day,  for  St.  Elmo 
has  carried  Huldah  to  the  plantation,  and  they  will  not  get 
home  until  late.  So,  my  dear,  we  shall  have  the  house  all 
to  ourselves." 

The  orphan  could  not  deny  herself  the  happiness  offered ; 
she  knew  that  she  ought  not  to  go,  but  for  once  her  strength 
failed  her,  she  yielded  to  the  temptation. 

During  the  ride  Mrs.  Murray  talked  cheerfully  of  vari- 
ous things,  and  for  the  first  time  laid  entirely  aside  the 
haughty  constraint  which  had  distinguished  her  manner 
since  they  travelled  south  from  New- York. 

They  entered  the  noble  avenue,  and  Edna  gave  herself 
up  to  the  rushing  recollections  which  were  so  mournfully 
sweet.  As  they  went  into  the  house,  and  the  servants  hur- 
ried forward  to  welcome  her,  she  could  not  repress  her 
tears.  She  felt  that  this  was  her  home,  her  heart's  home ; 
and  as  numerous  familiar  objects  met  her  eyes,  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray saw  that  she  was  almost  overpowered  by  her  emotions. 

"  I  wonder  if  there  is  any  other  place  on  earth  half  so 
beautiful !"  murmured  the  governess  several  hours  later, 
as  they  sat  looking  out  over  the  lawn,  where  the  deer  and 
sheep  were  browsing. 

"  Certainly  not,  to  our  partial  eyes.  And  yet  without  you, 
my  child,  it  does  not  seem  like  home.  It  is  the  only 
home  where  you  will  ever  be  happy." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it;  but  it  can  not  be  mine.  Mrs.  Murray, 
I  want  to  see  my  own  little  room." 

"  Certainly ;  you  know  the  way.  I  will  join  you  there 
presently.  Nobody  has  occupied  it  since  you  left,  for  I  feel 
toward  your  room  as  I  once  felt  toward  the  empty  cradle 
of  my  dead  child." 

Edna  went  up-stairs  alone  and  closed  the  door  of  the 


492  ST.  ELMO. 

apartment  she  had  so  long  called  hers,  and  .ouked  with 
childish  pleasure  and  affection  at  the  rosewood  furniture. 

Turning  to  the  desk  where  she  had  written  much  that 
the  world  now  praised  and  loved,  she  saw  a  vase  contain- 
ing a  superb  bouquet,  with  a  card  attached  by  a  strip  of 
ribbon.  The  hot-house  flowers  were  arranged  with  exqui- 
site taste,  and  the  orphan's  cheeks  glowed  suddenly  as  she 
recognized  Mr.  Murray's  handwriting  on  the  card :  "  For 
Edna  Earl."  When  she  took  up  the  bouquet  a  small  en- 
velope similarly  addressed  dropped  out. 

For  some  minutes  she  stood  irresolute,  fearing  to  trust 
herself  with  the  contents  ;  then  she  drew  a  chair  to  the 
desk,  sat  down,  and  broke  the  seal :     • 

"My  Darlixg:  Will  you  not  permit  me  to  see  you 
before  you  leave  the  parsonage?  Knowing  the  peculiar 
circumstances  that  brought  you  back,  I  can  not  take  ad- 
vantage of  them  and  thrust  myself  into  your  presence 
without  your  consent.  I  have  left  home  to-day,  because  I 
felt  assured  that,  much  as  you  might  desire  to  see  'Le 
Bocage,'  you  would  never  come  here  while  there  was  a  pos- 
sibility of  meeting  me.  Tou,  who  know  something  of  my 
wayward,  sinful,  impatient  character,  can  perhaps  imagine 
what  I  suffer,  when  I  am  told  that  your  health  is  wrecked, 
that  you  are  in  the  next  room,  and  yet,  that  I  must  not, 
shall  not  see  you — my  own  Edna!  Do  you  wonder  that  I 
almost  grow  desperate  at  the  thought  that  only  a  wall — -a 
door — separates  me  from  you,  whom  I  love  better  than  my 
1  ife  ?  O  my  darling  !  Allow  me  one  more  interview  ! 
Do  not  make  my  punishment  heavier  than  I  can  bear.  It 
is  hard — it  is  bitter  enough  to  know  that  you  can  not,  or 
will  not  trust  me ;  at  least  let  me  see  your  dear  face  again. 
Grant  me  one  hour — it  may  be  the  last  we  shall  ever  spend 
together  in  this  world. 

"  Tour  own  St.  Elmo." 


ST.  ELMO.  493 

All  my  God  !  pity  me  !  Why — oh. !  why  is  it  tnat  I 
am  tantalked  with  glimpses  of  a  great  joy  nevei  to  bo 
mine  in  this  life !  Why,  in  struggling  to  do  my  duty,  am 
I  brought  continually  to  the  very  gate  of  the  only  Eden  I 
am  ever  to  find  in  this  world,  and  yet  can  never  surprise 
the  watching  Angel  of  Wrath,  *and  have  to  stand  shivering 
outside,  and  see  my  Eden  only  by  the  flashing  of  the  sword 
that  bars  my  entrance  ?" 

Looking  at  the  chirography,  so  different  from  any  other 
which  she  had  ever  examined,  her  thoughts  were  irresisti- 
bly carried  back  to  that  morning  when,  at  the  shop,  she 
saw  this  handwriting  for  the  first  time  on  the  blank  leaf  of 
the  Dante  ;  and  she  recalled  the  shuddering  aversion  with 
which  her  grandfather  had  glanced  at  it,  and  advised  her 
to  commit  it  to  the  flames  of  the  forge. 

How  many  such  notes  as  this  had  been  penned  to  Annie 
and  Gertrude,  and  to  that  wretched  woman  shut  up  in  an 
Italian  convent,  and  to  others  of  whose  names  she  was  ig- 
norant ? 

Mrs.  Murray  opened  the  door,  looked  in,  and  said : 
"  Come,  I  want  to  show  you  something  really  beautiful." 
Edna  put  the  note  in  her  pocket,  took  the  bouquet,  and 
followed  her  friend  down-stairs,  through  the  rotunda,  to 
the  door  of  Mr.  Murray's  sitting-room. 

"My  son  locked  this  door  and  carried  the  key  with  him; 
but  after  some  search,  I  have  found  another  that  will  open 
it.  Come  in,  Edna.  Now  look  at  that  large  painting  hang- 
ing over  the  sarcophagus.  It  is  a  copy  of  Titian's  '  Christ 
Crowned  with  Thorns,'  the  original  of  which  is  in  a  Mi- 
lanese church,  I  believe.  While  St.  Elmo  was  last  abroad, 
he  was  in  Genoa  one  afternoon  when  a  boat  was  cap- 
sized. Being  a  fine  swimmer,  he  sprang  into  the  water 
where  several  persons  were  struggling,  and  saved  the  lives 
of  two  little  children  of  an  English  gentleman,  who  had  his 
hands  quite  full  in  rescuing  his  wife.  Two  of  the  party 
were  drowned    but.  the  father  was  so  grateful  to  my  son, 


494  ST-  ELMO. 

that  he  has  written  him  several  letters,  and  U&t  year  l:e 
sent  him  this  picture,  which,  though  of  course  much  smaller 
than  the  original,  is  considered  a  very  fine  copy.  I  begged 
to  have  it  hung  in  the  parlor,  but  fearing,  I  suppose,  that  its 
history  might  possibly  be  discovered,  (you  know  how  he 
despises  any  thing  like  a  parade  of  good  deeds,)  St.  Elmo, 
insisted  on  bringing  it  here  to  this  Egyptian  Museum, 
where,  unfortunately,  people  can  not  see  it." 

For  some  time  they  stood  admiring  it,  and  then  Edna's 
eyes  wandered  away  to  the  Taj  Mahal,  to  the  cabinets  and 
bookcases.  Her  lip  began  to  quiver  as  every  article  of 
furniture  babbled  of  the  By-Gone — of  the  happy  evenings 
spent  here — of  that  hour  when  the  idea  of  authorship  first 
seized  her  mind  and  determined  her  future. 

Mrs.  Murray  walked  up  to  the  arch,  over  which  the  cur- 
tains fell  touching  the  floor,  and  laying  her  hand  on  the 
folds  of  silk,  said  hesitatingly  : 

"I  am  going  to  show  you  something  that  my  son  would 
not  easily  forgive  me  for  betraying ;  for  it  is  a  secret  he 
guards  most  jealously " 

"  No,  I  would  rather  not  see  it.  I  wish  to  learn  nothing 
which  Mr.  Murray  is  not  willing  that  I  should  know." 

"  You  will  scarcely  betray  me  to  my  son  when  you  see 
what  it  is  ;  and  besides,  I  am  determined  you  shall  have  no 
room  to  doubt  the  truth  of  some  things  he  has  told  you. 
There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not  look  at  it.  Do  you 
recognize  that  face  yonder,  over  the  mantel-piece  ?" 

She  held  the  curtains  back,  and  despite  her  reluctance  to 
glancing  into  the  inner  room,  Edna  raised  her  eyes  timidly, 
and  saw,  in  a  richly-carved  oval  frame,  hanging  on  the  op- 
posite wall,  a  life-size  portrait  of  herself. 

"  We  learned  from  the  newspapers  that  some  fine  photo- 
graphs had  been  taken  in  New- York,  and  I  sent  on  and 
bought  two.  St.  Elmo  took  one  of  them  to  an  artist  in 
Charleston,  and  superintended  the  painting  of  that  portrait. 
When  he  returned,  just  before  I  went  North,  he  brought 


ST.  ELMO. 


the  picture  wLh  him,  and  with  his  own  hands  hung  it  yon- 
der. I  have  noticed  that  since  that  day  he  always  keeps 
the  curtains  down  over  the  arch,  and  never  leaves  the  house 
without  locking  his  rooms." 

Edna  had  dropped  her  crimsoned  face  in  her  hands,  but 
Mrs.  Murray  raised  it  forcibly  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  how  well  he  loves  you — how  ne- 
cessary you  are  to  his  happiness.  Now  I  must  leave  you, 
for  I  see  Mrs.  Montgomery's  carriage  at  the  door.  You 
have  a  note  to  answer ;  there  are  writing  materials  on  the 
table  yonder." 

She  went  out,  closing  the  door  softly,  and  Edna  was 
alone  with  reminiscences  that  pleaded  piteously  for  the  ab- 
sent master.  Oxalis  and  heliotrope  peeped  at  her  over  the 
top  of  the  lotos  vases ;  one  of  a  pair  of  gauntlets  had  fallen 
on  the  carpet  near  the  cameo  cabinet ;  two  or  three  news- 
papers and  a  meerschaum  lay  upon  a  chair  ;  several  theolo- 
gical works  were  scattered  on  the  sofa,  and  the  air  was 
heavy  with  lingering  cigar-smoke. 

Just  in  front  of  the  Taj  Mahal  was  a  handsome  copy  of 
Edna's  novel,  and  a  beautiful  morocco-bound  volume  con 
tabling  a  collection  of  all  her  magazine  sketches. 

She  sat  down  in  the  crimson-cushioned  arm-chair  that 
was  drawn  close  to  the  circular  table,  where  pen  and  pa- 
per told  that  the  owner  had  recently  been  writing,  and 
near  the  inkstand  was  a  handkerchief  with  German  initials, 

£»;  IB.  ffi. 

Upon  a  mass  of  loose  papers  stood  a  quaint  bronze  paper- 
weight, representing  Cartaphilus,  the  "Wandering  Jew;  and 
On  the  base  was  inscribed  Mr.  Murray's  favorite  Arabian 
maxim :  "  JEd  dilnya  djifetun  ve  talibeha  kilab" :  "  The 
world  is  an  abomination,  and  those  who  toil  about  it  are 
dogs." 

There,  too,  was  her  own  little  Bible  ;  and  as  she  took  it 
up  it  opened  at  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  John,  where 
she  found,  as  a  book-mark,  the  photograph  of  herself  from 


496  ST.  ELMO. 

which  the  portrait  had  been  painted.  An  nnwithered  gera- 
nium sprig  lying  among  the  leaves,  whispered  that  the 
pages  had  been  read  that  morning. 

Out  on  the  lawn  birds  swung  in  the  elm-twigs,  singing 
cheerily,  lambs  bleated  and  ran  races,  and  the  little  silver 
bell  on  Huldah's  pet  fawn,  "  Edna,"  tinkled  ceaselessly. 

"Help  nn,  O  my  God!  in  this  the  last  hour  of  my 
trial." 

The  prayer  went  up  moaningly,  and  Edna  took  a  pen  and 
turned  to  write.  Her  arm  struck  a  portfolio  lying  on  the 
edge  of  the  table,  and  in  falling  loose  sheets  of  paper  flut- 
tered out  on  the  carpet.  One  caught  her  eye ;  she  picked 
it  up,  and  found  a  sketch  of  the  ivied  ruins  of  Phyle.  Un- 
derneath the  drawing,  and  dated  fifteen  years  before,  were 
traced,  in  St.  Elmo's  writing,  those  lines,  which  Henry 
Soame  is  said  to  have  penned  on  the  blank  leaf  of  a  copy 
of  the  "  Pleasures  of  Memory"  : 

"  Memory  makes  her  influence  known 
By  sighs,  and  tears,  and  grief  alone. 
I  greet  her  as  the  fiend,  to  whom  belong 
The  vulture's  ravening  beak,  the  raven's  funeral  eong  1 
She  tells  of  time  misspent,  of  comfort  lost, 
Of  fair  occasions  gone  for  ever  by  ; 
Of  hopes  too  fondly  nursed,  too  rudely  crossed, 
Of  many  a  cause  to  wish,  yet  fear  to  die  ; 
For  what,  except  the  instinctive  fear 
Lest  she  survive,  detains  me  here, 
When  aU  the  '  Life  of  Life'  is  fled  V 

The  lonely  woman  looked  upward,  appealingly,  and  there 
upon  the  wall  she  met — not  as  formerly,  the  gleaming,  au- 
gurous,  inexorable  eyes  of  the  Cimbrian  Prophetess — but 
the  pitying  God's  gaze  of  Titian's  Jesus. 

When  Mrs.  Murray  returned  to  the  room,  Edna  sat  as 
Btill  as  one  of  the  mummies  in  the  sarcophagus,  with  her 
head  thrown  back,  and  the  long,  black  eyelashes  sweeping 
her  colorless  cheeks. 


ST.  ELMO.  497 

One  hand  was  pressed  over  her  heart,  the  other  hold  a 
note  d.rected  to  St.  Elmo  Murray;  and  the  cold,  fixed  fta- 
tux-es  were  so  like  those  of  an  Angel  of  Death  sometimes 
sculptured  on  cenotaphs, that  Mrs.  Murray  uttered  a  cry  oi 
alarm. 

As  she  bent  over  her,  Edna  opened  her  arms  and  said  in 
a  feeble,  spent  tone : 

"  Take  me  back  to  the  parsonage.  I  ought  not  to  have 
come  here ;  I  might  have  known  I  was  not  strong  enough." 

"  You  have  had  one  of  those  attacks.  Why  did  you  not 
call  me  ?     I  will  bring  you  some  wine." 

"  No  ;  only  let  me  go  away  as  soon  as  possible.  Oh !  I 
am  ashamed  of  my  weakness." 

She  rose,  and  her  pale  lips  writhed  as  her  sad  eyes  wan- 
dered in  a  farewell  glance  around  the  room. 

She  put.  the  unsealed  note  in  Mrs.  Murray's  hard,  and 
turned  toward  the  door. 

"  Edna  !  My  daughter !  you  have  not  refused  St.  Elmo's 
request  ?" 

"  My  mo  :her  !     Pity  me  !     I  could  not  grant  it." 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


HEY  have  come.  I  hear  Gertrude's  birdish  voice." 
The  words  had  scarcely  passed  Mr.  Ham- 
mond's lips  ere  his  niece  bounded  into  the  room, 
followed  by  her  husband. 

Edna  was  sitting  on  the  chintz-covered  lounge,  mending 
a  basketful  of  the  old  man's  clothes  that  needed  numerous 
stitches  and  buttons,  and,  throwing  aside  her  sewing  mate- 
rials, she  rose  to  meet  the  travellers. 

At  sight  of  her  Gordon  Leigh  stopped  suddenly,  and  his 
face  grew  instantly  as  bloodless  as  her  own. 

"  Edna  !     Oh !  how  changed  !     What  a  wreck !" 

He  grasped  her  outstretched  hand,  folded  it  in  his,  which 
trembled  violently,  and  a  look  of  anguish  mastered  his  fea- 
tures, as  his  eyes  searched  her  calm  countenance. 

"I  did  not  think  it  would  come  so  soon.  Passing  away 
in  the  early  morning  of  your  life  !*  O  my  pure,  broken 
lily !" 

He  did  not  seem  to  heed  his  wife's  presence,  until  she 
threw  her  arms  around  Edna,  exclaiming : 

"  Get  away,  Gordon  !  I  want  her  all  to  myself.  Why, 
you  pale  darling !  What  a  starved  ghost  you  are  !  Not 
half  as  substantial  as  my  shadow,  is  she,  Gordon  ?  O  Edna ! 
how  I  have  longed  to  see  you,  to  tell  you  how  I  enjoyed 
your  dear,  delightful,  grand,  noble  book !  To  tell  you  what 
a  great  woman  I  think  you  are ;  and  how  proud  of  you  I 
*am.  A  gentleman  who  came  over  in  the  steamer  with  us, 
asked  me  how  much  you  paid  me  per  annum  to  puff  you. 


ST.  ELMO.  499 

lie  was  a  miserable  old  cynic  of  a  bachelor,  iidicuiled  all 
women  unmercifully,  and  at  last  I  told  him  I  would  bet 
both  my  ears  that  the  reason  he  was  so  bearish  and  hateful, 
was  because  some  pretty  girl  had  flirted  with  him  outrage- 
ously. He  turned  up  his  ugly  nose  especially  at  'blue 
stockings ;'  said  all  literary  women  were  '  hopeless  pedants 
and  slatterns,'  and  quoted  that  abominable  Horace  Walpole's 
account  of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu's  '  dirt  and  vivaci- 
ty.' I  really  thought  Gordon  would  throw  him  overboard. 
I  wonder  what  he  would  say  if  he  could  see  you  darning 
Uncle  Allan's  socks.  0  Edna,  dearie  !  I  am  sorry  to  find 
you  looking  so  pale." 

All  this  was  uttered  interjectionally  between  vigorous 
hugs  and  warm,  tender  kisses,  and  as  Gertrude  threw  hei 
bonnet  and  wrappings  on  the  lounge,"  she  continued : 

"  I  wished  for  you  just  exactly  ten  thousand  times  while 
I  was  abroad,  there  were  so  many  things  that  you  could 
have  described  so  beautifully.  Gordon,  don't  Edna's  eyes 
remind  you  very  much  of  that  divine  picture  of  the  Ma- 
donna at  Dresden  ?" 

She  looked  round  for  an  answer,  but  her  husband  had 
left  the  room,  and,  recollecting  a  parcel  that  had  been 
stowed  away  in  the  pocket  of  the  carriage,  she  ran  out  to 
get  it. 

Presently  she  reappeared  at  the  door,  with  a  goblet  in 
her  hand. 

"  Uncle  Allan,  who  carries  the  keys  now  ?" 

"  Edna.     "What  will  you  have,  my  dear  ?" 

"I  want  some  brandy.  Gordon  looks  very  pale,  and 
complains  of  not  feeling  well,  so  I  intend  to  make  him  a 
mint-julep.  Ah  Edna  !  These  husbands  are  such  trouble- 
some creatures." 

She  left  the  room  jingling  the  bunch  of  keys,  and  a  few 
moments  after  they  heard  her  humming  an  air  from  "  Rigo- 
letto,"  as  she  bent  over  the  mint-bed,  under  the  study- win- 
dow. 


500  ST.  ELMO. 

Mr.  Hammond,  who  had  observed  all  thai  passed,  an  S. 
saw  the  earnest  distress  clouding  the  orphan's  brow,  said 
gravely : 

"  She  has  not  changed  an  iota ;  she  never  will  be  any 
thing  more  than  a  beautiful,  merry  child,  and  is  a  mere 
pretty  pet,  not  a  companion  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word. 
She  is  not  quick-witted,  or  she  would  discern  a  melancholy 
truth  that  might  overshadow  all  her  life.  Unless  Gordon 
learns  more  self-control,  he  will  ere  long  betray  himself.  I 
expostulated  with  him  before  his  marriage,  but  for  once  he 
threw  my  warning  to  the  winds.  I  am  an  old  man,  and 
have  seen  many  phases  of  human  nature,  and  watched  the 
development  of  many  characters  ;  and  I  have  found  that 
these  pique  marriages  are  always  mournful— always  disas- 
trous. In  such  instances  I  would  with  more  pleasure  offici 
ate  at  the  grave  than  at  the  altar.  Once  Estelle  and  Agnes 
persuaded  me  that  St.  Elmo  was  about  to  wreck  himself  on 
this  rock  of  ruin,  and  even  his  mother's  manner  led  me  to 
believe  that  he  would  marry  his  cousin ;  but,  thank  God ! 
he  was  wiser  than  I  feared." 

"  Mr.  Hammond,  are  you  sure  that  Gertrude  loves  Mr. 
Leigh  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,  my  dear !  Of  that  fact  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
"Why  do  you  question  it  ?" 

"  She  told  me  once  that  Mr.  Murray  had  won  her  heart." 

It  was  the  first  time  Edna  had  mentioned  his  name  since 
her  return,  and  it  brought  a  faint  flush  to  her  cheeks. 

"  That  was  a  childish  whim  which  she  has  utterly  for- 
gotten. A  woman  of  her  temperament  never  remains  at- 
tached to  a  man  from  whom  she  is  long  separated.  I  do 
not  suppose  that  she  remembered  St.  Elmo  a  month,  after 
6he  ceased  to  meet  him.  I  feel  assured  that  she  loves  Gor- 
don as  well  as  she  can  love  any  one.  She  is  a  remarkably 
sweet-tempered,  unselfish,  gladsome  woman,  but  is  not 
capable  of  very  deep,  lasting  feeling." 

"  I  will  go  away  at  once.     This  is  Saturday,  and  I  will 


ST.  ELMO.  501 

start  to  New- York  early  Monday  morning.  Mr  leigh  ia 
weaker  than  I  ever  imagined  he  could  be." 

The  outline  of  her  mouth  hardened,  and  .into  her  eyea 
crept  an  expression  of  scorn,  that  very  rarely  found  a  har- 
bor there. 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  although  it  grieves  me  to  part  with 
you,  I  know  it  is  best  that  you  should  not  be  here,  at  least 
for  the  present.  Agnes  is  visiting  friends  at  the  North, 
and  when  she  returns,  Gordon  and  Gertrude  will  remove  to 
their  new  house.  Then  Edna,  if  I  feel  that  I  need  you,  if  I 
Avrite  for  you,  will  you  not  come  back  to  me  ?  Dear  child, 
I  want  your  face  to  be  the  last  I  look  upon  in  this  world." 

She  drew  the  pastor's  shrunken  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
shook  her  head. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  to  do  that  which  my  strength  will  not 
permit.  There  are  many  reasons  why  I  ought  not  to  come 
here  again ;  and  moreover,  my  work  calls  me  hence,  to  a 
distant  field.  My  physical  strength  seems  to  be  ebbing  fast, 
and  my  vines  are  not  all  purple  with  mellow  fruit.  Some 
clusters,  thank  God  !  are  fragrant,  ripe,  and  ready  for  the 
wine-press,  when  the  Angel  of  the  Vintage  comes  to  gather 
them  in  ;  but  my  work  is  only  half  done.  Not  until  my 
fingers  clasp  white  flowers  under  a  pall,  shall  it  be  said  of 
me,  '  Yet  a  little  sleep,  a  little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of 
the  hands  to  sleep.'  In  coelo  quies  !  The  German  idea  of 
death  is  to  me  peculiarly  comforting  and  touching,  '  Heim- 
gang  ' — g®ing  home.  Ah  sir  !  humanity  ought  to  be  home- 
sick ;  and  in  thinking  of  that  mansion  beyond  the  star- 
paved  pathway  of  the  sky,  whither  Jesus  has  gone  to  pre- 
pare our  places,  we  children  of  earth  should,  like  the  Swiss, 
never  lose  our  home-sickness.  Our  bodies  are  of  the  dust — 
dusty,  and  bend  dustward  ;  but  our  souls  floated  down  from 
the  sardonyx  walls  of  the  Everlasting  City,  and  brought 
with  them  a  yearning  maladie  du  pays,  which  should  help 
them  to  struggle  back.  Sometimes  I  am  tempted  to  believe 
that  the  joys  of  this  world  are  the  true  lotos,  devouring 


602  ST.  ELMO. 

which,  mankind  glory  in  exile,  and  forget  the  Heimgang 
It  is  mournfully  true  that — 

'  Earth  fills  her  lap  with  pleasures  of  her  own  ; 
And,  even  with  something  of  a  mother's  mind, 

And  no  unworthy  aim, 

The  homely  nurse  doth  all  she  can 
To  make  her  foster-child,  her  inmate  man, 

Forget  the  glories  he  hath  known, 
And  that  imperial  palace  whence  he  came.' 

Oh !  indeed,  '  here  we  have  no  continuing  city,  but  seek 
one  to  come.'  Heimgang !  Thank  God  !  going  home  for 
ever !" 

The  splendor  of  the  large  eyes  seemed  almost  unearthly 
as  she  looked  out  over  the  fields,  where  in  summers  past 
the  shout  of  the  merry  reapers  rose  like  the  songs  of  Greek 
harvesters  to  Demeter  ?  Nay,  nay,  as  a  hymn  of  gratitude 
and  praise  to  Him  who  '  feedeth  the  fowls  of  the  air,'  and 
maketh  the  universe  a  vast  Sarepta,  in  which  the  cruse 
never  faileth  the  prophets  of  God.  Edna  sat  silent  for 
some  time,  with  her  slender  hands  folded  on  her  lap,  and 
the  pastor  heard  her  softly  repeating,  as  if  to  her  own  soul, 
those  noble  hues  on  "  Life :" 

"  A  cry  between  the  silences, 
A  shadow-birth  of  clouds  at  strife 
With  sunshine  on  the  hills  of  life  ; 
Between  the  cradle  and  the  shroud, 
A  meteor's  flight  from  cloud  to  cloud  I" 

Several  hours  later,  when  Mr.  Leigh  returned  to  the 
study,  he  fbund  Edna  singing  some  of  the  minister's  favor- 
ite Scotch  ballads ;  while  Gertrude  rested  on  the  lounge, 
half  pro  pped  on  her  elbow,  and  leaning  forward  to  dangle 
the  cord  and  tassel  of  her  robe  de  chambre  within  reach  of 
an  energetic  little  blue-eyed  kitten,  which,  with  its  paws  in 
the  air,  rolled  on  the  carpet,  catching  at  the  silken  toy, 


ST  ELMO.  503 

The  governess  left  the  piano,  and  resumed  her  mending  of 
7the  contents  of  the  clothes-basket. 

In  answer  to  some  inquiries  of  Mr.  Hammond,  Mr.  Leigh 
gave  a  brief  account  of  bis  travels  in  Southern  Europe ; 
but  his  manner  was  constrained,  his  thoughts  evidently 
preoccupied.  Once  his  eyes  wandered  to  the  round,  rosy, 
dimpling  face  of  his  exquisitely  beautiful  child-wife,  and  he 
frowned,  bit  his  lip,  and  sighed ;  while  his  gaze,  earnest  and 
mournfully  anxious,  returned  and  dwelt  upon  the  weary 
but  serene  and  noble  countenance  of  the  orphan. 

In  the  conversation,  which  had  turned  accidentally  upon 
philology  and  the  mss.  of  the  Vatican,  Gertrude  took  no 
part ;  now  and  then  glancing  up  at  the  speakers,  she  con- 
tinued her  romp  with  the  kitten.  At  length,  tired  of  her 
frolicsome  pet,  she  rose  with  a  partially  suppressed  yawn, 
and  sauntered  up  to  her  husband's  chair.  Softly  and  lov- 
ingly her  pretty  little  pink  palms  were  passed  over  her  hus- 
band's darkened  brow,  and  her  fingers  drew  his  hair  now 
on  one  side,  now  on  the  other,  while  she  peeped  over  hia 
shoulder  to  watch  the  effect  of  the  arrangement. 

The  caresses  were  inopportune,  her  touch  annoyed  him. 
He  shook  it  off,  and,  stretching  out  his  arm,  put  her  gently 
but  firmly  away,  saying,  coldly  : 

"  There  is  a  chair,  Gertrude." 

Edna's  eyes  looked  steadily  into  his,  with  an  expression 
of  grave,  sorrowful  reproof — of  expostulation ;  and  the  flush 
deepened  on  his  face  as  his  eyes  fell  before  her  rebuking 
gaze. 

Perhaps  the  young  wife  had  become  accustomed  to  such 
rebuffs ;  at  all  events  she  evinced  neither  mortification  nor 
surprise,  but  twirled  her  silk  tassel  vigorously  around  her 
finger,  and  exclaimed : 

"  O  Gordon !  have  you  not  forgotten  to  give  Edna  that 
letter,  written  by  the  gentleman  we  met  at  Palermo? 
Edna,  he  paid  your  book  some  splendid  compliments.  I 
fairly  clapped  my  hands  at  his  praises — didn't  I,  Gordon  ?" 


504  ST-  ELMO 

Mr.  Leigh  drew  a  letter  from  the  inside  pocket  of  hia 
coat,  and,  as  he  gave  it  to  the  orphan,  said  with  a  touch  of 
bitterness  in  his  tone : 

"Pardon  my  negligence;  probably  you  will  find  little 
news  in  it,  as  he  is  one  of  your  old  victims,  and  you  can 
guess  its  contents.'1. 

The  letter  was  from  Sir  Roger ;  and  while  he  expressed 

great  grief  at  hearing,  through  Mr.  Manning's  notes,  that 

i  her  health  was  seriously  impaired,  he  renewed  the  offer  of 

his  hand,  and  asked  permission  to  come  and  plead  his  suit 

in  person. 

As  Edna  hurriedly  glanced  over  the  pages,  and  put  them 
in  her  pocket,  Gertrude  said  gayly,  "Shame  on  you, 
Gordon !  Do  you  mean  to  say,  or,  rather  to  insinuate,  that 
all  who  read  Edna's  book  are  victimized  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  from  under  thickening  eyebrows,  and 
replied  with  undisguised  impatience  : 

"  No  ;  your  common-sense  ought  to  teach  you  that  such 
was  not  my  meaning  or  intention.  Edna  places  no  such  in- 
terpretation on  my  words." 

"  Common-sense !  O  Gordon,  dearie !  how  unreasonable 
you  are !  Why,  you  have  told  me  a  thousand  times  that 
I  had  not  a  particle  of  common-sense,  except  on  the  sub- 
ject of  juleps ;  and  how,  then,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  can 
you  expect  me  to  show  any  ?  I  never  pretended  to  be  a 
great  shining  genius  like  Edna,  whose  writings  all  the 
world  is  talking  about.  I  only  want  to  be  wise  enough  to 
understand  you,  dearie,  and  make  you  happy.  Gordon, 
don't  you  feel  any  better  ?     What  makes  your  face  so  red  ?" 

She  went  back  to  his  chair,  and  leaned  her  lovely  head 
close  to  his,  while  an  anxious  expression  filled  her  large 
blue  eyes. 

Gordon  Leigh  realized  that  his  marriage  was  a  terrible 
mistake,  which  only  death  could  rectify ;  but  even  in  hia 
wretchedness  he  was  just,  blaming  only  himself — exonerat- 
ing his  wife.    Had  he  not  wooed  the  love  of  which,  already, 


ST.  ELMO.  505 

he  was  weary?  Having  deceived  her  at  the  altar,  was 
there  justification  for  his  dropping  the  mask  at  the  hearth- 
stone ?  Nay,  the  skeleton  must  be  thrust  out  of  sight,  her- 
metically sealed ;  there  should  be  no  rattling  of  skull  and 
cross-bones  to  freeze  the  blood  in  the  sweet  laughing  face 
of  the  trusting  bride. 

Now  her  clinging  tenderness,  her  affectionate  humility, 
upbraided  him  as  no  harsh  words  could  possibly  have  done. 
With  a  smothered  sigh  he  passed  his  arm  around  her,  and 
drew  her  closer  to  his  side. 

"  At  least  my  little  wife  is  wise  enough  to  teach  her  hus- 
band to  be  ashamed  of  his  petulance." 

"And  quite  wise  enough,  dear  Gertrude,  to  make  him 
very  proud  and  happy ;  for  you  ought  to  be  able  to  say  with 
the  sweetest  singer  in  all  merry  England  : 

'  But  I  look  up,  and  he  looks  down, 

And  thus  our  married  eyes  can  meet ; 
Unclouded  Ms,  and  clear  of  frown, 
And  gravely  sweet.'  " 

As  Edna  glanced  at  the  young  wife  and  uttered  these 
words,  a  mist  gathered  in  her  own  eyes,  and  collecting  her 
sewing  utensils  she  went  to  her  room  to  pack  her  trunk. 

During  her  stay  at  the  parsonage  she  had  not  attended 
service  in  the  church,  because  Mr.  Hammond  was  lonely, 
and  her  Sabbaths  were  spent  in  reading  to  him.  But  her 
old  associates  in  the  choir  insisted  that,  before  she  returned 
to  New- York,  she  should  sing  with  them  once  more. 

Thus  far  she  had  declined  all  invitations;  but  on  the 
morning  of  the  last  day  of  her  visit,  the  organist  called  to 
say  that  a  distinguished  divine,  from  a  distant  State,  would 
fill  Mr.  Hammond's  pulpit ;  and  as  the  best  and  leading  so- 
prano in  the  choir  was  disabled  by  severe  cold,  and  could 
not  be  present,  he  begged  that  Edna  would  take  her  place, 
and  sing  a  certain  solo  in  the  music  which  he  had  selected 
for  an  opening  piece.     Mr.  Hammond,  who  was  pardonably 


506  ST-  ELMO. 

proud  of  his  choir,  was  anxious  that  the  stranger  should  be 
greeted  and  inspired  by  fine  music,  and  urged  Edna's  com- 
pliance with  the  request. 

Reluctantly  she  consented,  and  for  the  first  time  Duty  and 
Love  seemed  to  signal  a  truce,  to  shake  hands  over  the  pre- 
liminaries of  a  treaty  for  peace. 

As  she  passed  through  the  churchyard  and  ascended  the 
steps,  where  a  group  of  Sabbath-school  children  sat  talking, 
her  eyes  involuntarily  sought  the  dull  brown  spot  on  the 
marble. 

Over  it  little  Herbert  Inge  had  spread  his  white  handker 
chief,  and  piled  thereon  his  Testament  and  catechism,  laying 
on  the  last  one,  of  those  gilt-bordered  and  handsome  pic- 
torial cards,  containing  a  verse  from  the  Scriptures,  which 
are  frequently  distributed  by  Sabbath-school  teachers. 

Edna  stooped  and  looked  at  the  picture  covering  the 
blood-stain.  It  represented  our  Saviour  on  the  Mount,  de- 
livering the  sermon,  and  in  golden  letters  were  printed  his 
words : 

"  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged.  For  with  what 
judgment  ye  judge,  ye  shall  be  judged ;  and  with  what 
measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again." 

The  eyes  of  the  Divine  Preacher  seemed  to  look  into 
hers,  and  the  outstretched  hand  to^point  directly  at  her. 

She  trembled,  and  hastily  kissing  the  sweet  red  lips 
which  little  Herbert  held  up  to  her,  she  went  in  and  up  to 
the  gallery. 

The  congregation  assembled  slowly  ;  and  as  almost  all 
the  faces  were  familiar  to  Edna,  each  arrival  revived  some 
reminiscence  of  the  past.  Here  the  flashing  silk  flounces 
of  a  young  belle  brushed  the  straight  black  folds  of  widow's 
weeds  ;  on  the  back  of  one  seat  was  stretched  the  rough 
brown  hand  of  a  poor,  laboring  man  ;  on  the  next  lay  the 
dainty  fingers  of  a  matron  of  wealth  and  fashion,  who  had 
entirely  forgotten  to  draw  a  glove  over  hsr  sparkling  dia« 
monds 


st.  zzmo.  507 

In  all  the  splendor  of  velvet,  feathers,  and  sea-green 
moire,  Mrs.  Montgomery  sailed  proudly  into  her  pew,  con- 
voying her  daughter  Maud,  who  was  smiling  and  whisper 
ing  to  her  escort ;  and  just  behind  them  came  a  plainly- 
clad  but  happy  young  mechanic,  a  carpenter,  clasping  to 
his  warm,  honest  heart  the  arm  of  his  sweet-faced,  gentle 
wife,  and  holding  the  hand  of  his  rosy-cheeked,  bright-eyed, 
three-year-old  boy,  who  toddled  along,  staring  at  the  bril- 
liant pictures  on  the  windows. 

When  Mr.  Leigh  and  Gertrude  entered  there  was  a  gen- 
eral stir,  a  lifting  of  heads  and  twisting  of  necks,  in  order 
to  ascertain  what  new  styles  of  bonnet,  lace,  and  mantle 
prevailed  in  Paris. 

A  moment  after,  Mrs.  Murray  walked  slowly  down  the 
aisle,  and  Edna's  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  as  she  saw  Mr 
Murray's  powerful  form.  He  stepped  forward,  and  while 
he  opened  the  door  of  the  pew,  and  waited  for  his  mother 
to  seat  herself,  his. face  was  partially  visible;  then  he  sat 
down,  closing  the  door. 

The  minister  entered,  and,  as  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  the 
organ  began  to  breathe  its  solemn  welcome.  When  the 
choir  rose  and  commenced  their  chorus,  Edna  stood  silent, 
with  her  book  in  her  hand,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  Mur- 
rays'  pew. 

The  strains  of  triumph  ceased,  the  organ  only  sobbed  its 
sympathy  to  the  thorn-crowned  Christ,  struggling  along 
the  Via  Dolorosa,  and  the  orphan's  quivering  lips  parted, 
and  she  sang  her  solo. 

As  her  magnificent  voice  rose  and  rolled  to  the  arched 
roof,  people  forgot  propriety,  and  turned  to  look  at  the 
singer.  She  saw  Mrs.  Murray  start  and  glance  eagerly  up 
at  her,  and  for  an  instant  the  grand  pure  voice  faltered 
slightly,  as  Edna  noticed  that  the  mother  whispered  some- 
thing to  the  son.  But  he  did  not  turn  his  proud  head,  ha 
only  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  side  of  the  pew  next  to  the 
aisle5  and  rested  his  temple  on  his  hand. 


508  ST.  ELMO. 

"When  the  preliminary  services  ended,  and  the  minister 
stood  up  in  the  shining  pulpit  and  commenced  his  discourse, 
Edna  felt  that  St.  Elmo  had  at  last  enlisted  angels  in  his 
behalf;  for  the  text  was  contained  in  the  warning,  whose 
gilded  letters  hid  the  blood-spot,  "  Judge  not,  that  ye  be 
not  "udged." 

As  far  as  two  among  his  auditory  were  concerned,  the 
preacher  might  as  well  have  addressed  his  sermon  to  the 
mossy  slabs,  visible  through  the  windows.  Both  listened 
to  the  text,  and  neither  heard  any  more.  Edna  sat  looking 
down  at  Mi\  Murray's  massive,  finely-poised  head,  and  she 
could  see  the  profile  contour  of  features,  regular  and  dark, 
as  if  carved  and  bronzed: 

During  the  next  half-hour  her  vivid  imagination  sketched 
and  painted  a  vision  of  enchantment — of  what  might  have 
been,  if  that  motionless  man  below,  there  in  the  crimson- 
cushioned  pew,had  only  kept  his  soul  from  grievous  sins. 
A  vision  of  a  happy,  proud,  young  wife  reigning  at  Le  Bo- 
cage,  shedding  the  warm  rosy  light  of  her  love  over  the 
lonely  life  of  its  master ;  adding  to  his  strong  clear  intel- 
lect and  ripe  experience,  the  silver  flame  of  her  genius ;  bor- 
rowing from  him  broader  and  more  profound  views  of  her 
race,  on  which  to  base  her  ideal  aesthetic  structures ;  soften- 
ing, refining  his  nature,  strengthening  her  own  ;  helping 
him  to  help  humanity ;  loving  all  good,  being  good,  doing 
good ;  serving  and  worshipping  God  together ;  walking 
hand  in  hand  with  her  husband  through  earth's  wide  valley 
of  Baca,  with  peaceful  faces  full  of  faith,  looking  heaven- 
ward. 

"  God  pity  them  both  1  and  pity  us  all, 
Who  vainly  the  dreams  of  youth  recall. 
For  of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these, '  It  might  have  been  1' " 

At  last,  with  a  faint  moan,  which  reached  no  ear  but  that 
of  Him  who  never  slumbers,  Edna  withdrew  her  eyes  from 


8T.  ELMO.  50& 

the  spot  where  Mr.  Murray  sat,  and  raised  them  towaid  the 
pale  Christ,  whose  wan  lips  seemed  to  murmur  ■ 

"  Be  of  good  cheer  !  He  that  overcometh  shall  inherit 
all  things.  What  I  do,  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou 
shalt  know  hereafter." 

The  minister  standing  beneath  the  picture  of  the  Master 
whom  he  served,  closed  the  Bible  and  ended  his  discourse 
by  hurling  his  text  as  a  thunderbolt  at  those  whose  up- 
turned faces  watched  him : 

"  Finally,  brethren,  remember  under  all  circumstances 
the  awful  admonition  of  Jesus,  '  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not 
judged !'  " 

The  organ  peals  and  the  doxology  were  concluded ;  the 
benediction  fell  like  God's  dew,  alike  on  sinner  and  on 
saint,  and  amid  the  solemn  moaning  of  the  gilded  pipes, 
the  congregation  turned  to  quit  the  church. 

With  both  hands  pressed  over  her  heart,  Edna  leaned 
heavily  against  the  railing. 

"  To-morrow  I  go  away  for  ever.  I  shall  never  see  his 
face  again  in  this  world.  Oh  !  I  want  to  look  at  it  once 
more." 

As  he  stepped  into  the  aisle,  Mr.  Murray  threw  his  head 
back  slightly,  and  his  eyes  swept  up  to  the  gallery  and  met 
hers.  It  was  a  long,  eager,  heart-searching  gaze.  She  saw 
a  countenance  more  fascinating  than  of  old ;  for  the  sardonic 
glare  had  gone,  the  bitterness,  "  the  dare-man,  dare-brute, 
dare-devil "  expression  had  given  place  to  a  stern  mourn- 
fulness,  and  the  softening  shadow  of  deep  contrition  and 
manly  sorrow  hovered  over  features  where  scoffing  cyni- 
cism had  so  long  scowled. 

The  magnetism  of  St.  Elmo's  eyes  was  never  more  mar- 
vellous than  when  they  rested  on  the  beautiful  white  face 
of  the  woman  he  loved  so  well,  whose  calm  holy  eyes  shone 
like  those  of  an  angel,  as  they  looked  sadly  down  at  his. 
In  the  mystical  violet  light  with  which  the  rich  stained 
glass  flooded  the  church,  that  pallid,  suffering  face,  sublime 


510  ST.  ELMO. 

in  its  meekness  and  resignation,  hung  above  him,  like  one 
of  Perugino's  saints  over  kneeling  mediaeval  worshippers. 
As  the  moving  congregation  bore  him  nearer  to  the  door, 
she  leaned  farther  over  the  mahogany  balustrade,  and  a 
snowy  crocus  which  she  wore  at  her  throat,  snapped  its 
brittle  stem  and  floated  down  till  it  touched  his  shoulder 
He  laid  one  hand  over  it,  holding  it  there,  and  while  & 
prayer  burned  in  his  splendid  eyes,  hers  smiled  a  melan- 
choly farewell.  The  crowd  swept  the  tall  form  forward, 
under  the  arches,  beyond  the  fluted  columns  of  the  gallery 
and  the  long  gaze  ended. 

"  Ait !  well,  for  us  all  some  sweet  hope  liea 
Deeply  buried  from  human  eyes  ; 
And,  in  the  hereafter,  angels  may 
Boll  the  stone  from  its  grave  away  1" 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 


AM  truly  thankful  that  you  have  returned  !  I 
am  quite  worn  out  trying  to  humor  Felix'a 
whims,  and  take  your  place.  He  has  actually 
lost  ten  pounds  ;  and  if  you  had  staid  away  a 
month  longer  I  think  it  would  have  finished  my  poor  boy, 
who  has  set  you  up  as  an  idol  in  his  heai*t.  He  almost  had 
a  spasm  last  week,  when  his  father  told  him  he  had  better 
reconcile  himself  to  your  absence,  as  he  believed  that  you 
would  never  come  back  to  the  drudgery  of  the  school-room. 
I  am  very  anxious  about  him ;  his  health  is  more  feeble 
than  it  has  been  since  he  was  five  years  old.  My  dear,  you 
have  no  idea  how  you  have  been  missed  !  Your  admirers 
call  by  scores  to  ascertain  when  you  may  be  expected 
home  ;  and  I  do  not  exaggerate  in  the  least  when  I  say, 
that  there  is  a  champagne  basketful  of  periodicals  and  let- 
ters up-stairs,that  have  arrived  recently.  You  will  find 
them  piled  on  the  table  and  desk  in  your  room." 

"  Where  are  the  children  ?"  asked  Edna,  glancing  around 
the  sitting-room  into  which  Mrs.  Andrews  had  drawn  her. 

"  Hattie  is  spending  the  day  with  Lila  Manning,  who  is 
just  recovering  from  a  severe  attack  of  scarlet  fever,  and 
Felix  is  in  the  library  trying  to  sleep.  He  has  one  of  hia 
nervous  headaches  to-day.  Poor  fellow  !  he  tries  so  hard 
to  overcome  his  irritable  temper  and  to  grow  patient,  that 
I  am  growing  fonder  of  him  every  day.     How  travel-spent 


512  ST.  ELMO. 

and  ghastly  you  are  !  Sit  down,  and  I  will  order  seme  re 
freshments.  Take  this  wine,  my  dear,  and  presently  jou 
shall  have  a  cup  of  chocolate." 

"  Thank  you,  not  any  wine.     I  only  want  to  see  Felix." 

She  went  to  the  library,  cautiously  opened  the  door,  and 
crept  softly  across  the  floor  to  the  end  of  the  sofa. 

The  boy  lay  looking  through  the  window, and  up  beyond 
the  walls  and  chimneys,  at  the  sapphire  pavement,  where 
rolled  the  burning  sun.  Casual  observers  thought  the  crip- 
ple's face  ugly  and  disagreeable ;  but  the  tender,  loving 
«mile  that  lighted  the  countenance  of  the  governess  as  she 
leaned  forward,  told  that  some  charm  lingered  in  the  sharp- 
ened features  overcast  with  sickly  sallowness.  In  his  large, 
deep-set  eyes,  over  which  the  heavy  brows  arched  like  a 
roof,  she  saw  now  a  strange  expression  that  frightened  her, 
Was  it  the  awful  shadow  of  the  Three  Singing  Spinners, 
whom  Catullus  painted  at  the  wedding  of  Peleus  ?  As  the 
child  looked  into  the  blue  sky,  did  he  catch  a  glimpse  of 
their  trailing  white  robes,  purple-edged — of  their  floating 
rose-colored  veils  ?  Above  all,  did  he  hear  the  unearthly 
chorus  which  they  chanted  as  they  spun  ? 

"  Currite  ducentes,  subtemina  curritefusi  /" 

The  governess  was  seized  by  a  vague  apprehension  as 
she  watched  her  pupil,  and  bending  down  she  said  fondly  : 

"  Felix,  my  darling,  I  have  come  back !  Never  again 
while  I  live  will  I  leave  you." 

The  almost  bewildering  joy  that  flashed  into  his  counte- 
nance mutely  but  eloquently  welcomed  her,  as  kneeling  be- 
side the  sofa  she  wound  her  arms  around  him, and  drew  his 
head  to  her  shoulder. 

"  Edna,  is  Mr.  Hammond  dead  ?" 

"  No,  he  is  almost  well  again,  and  needs  me  no  more." 

"  I   need   you  more   than  any  body  else  ever  did.     O 

Edna !  I  thought  sometimes  you  would  stay  at  the  South 

that  you  love  so  well,  and  I  should  see  you  no  more  ;  and 

ben  all  the  light  seemed  to  die  out  of  the  world,  and  the 


ST.  ELMO.  513 

flowers  were  not  sweet,  and  the  stars  were  not  bright,  and 
oh  !  I  was  glad  I  had  not  long  to  live.'' 

"  Hush  !  you  must  not  talk  so.  How  do  you  know  that 
you  may  not  live  as  long  as  Ahasuerus,  the  '  Everlasting 
Jew'  ?  My  dear  little  boy,  in  all  this  wide  earth,  you  are 
the  only  one  whom  I  have  to  love  and  to  cling  to,  and  we 
will  be  happy  together.     Darling,  your  head  aches  to-day  ?  " 

She  pressed  her  lips  twice  to  his  hot  forehead. 

"  Yes ;  but  the  heart-ache  was  much  the  hardest  to  bear 
until  you  came.  Mamma  has  been  very  good  and  kind, 
and  staid  at  home  and  read  to  me  ;  but  I  wanted  you,  Edna. 
I  do  not  believe  I  have  been  wicked  since  you  left ;  for  I 
prayed  all  the  while  that  God  would  bring  you  back  to  me. 
I  have  tried  hard  to  be  patient." 

With  her  cheek  nestled  against  his,  Edna  told  him  many 
things  that  had  occurred  during  their  separation,  and  no- 
ticed that  his  eyes  brightened  suddenly  and  strangely. 

"  Edna,  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you  ;  something  that  even 
mamma  is  not  to  know  just  now.  You  must  not  laugh  at 
me.  While  you  were  gone  I  wrote  a  little  MS.,  and  it  is 
dedicated  to  you  !  and  some  day  I  hope  it  will  be  printed,, 
Are  you  glad,  Edna  ?     My  beautiful,  pale  Edna  !" 

"  Felix,  I  am  very  glad  you  love  me  sufficiently  to  dedi- 
cate your  little  ms.  to  me  ;  but,  my  dear  boy,  I  must  see  it 
before  I  can  say  I  am  glad  you  wrote  it." 

"  If  you  had  been  here,  it  would  not  have  been  written, 
because  then  I  should  merely  have  talked  out  all  the  ideas 
to  you ;  but  you  were  far  away,  and  so  I  talked  to  my 
paper.  After  all,  it  was  only  a  dream.  One  night  I  was 
feverish,  and  mamma  read  aloud  those  passages  that  you 
marked  in  that  great  book,  Maury's  Physical  Geography 
of  the  Sea,  that  you  admire  and  quote  so  often  ;  and  of 
which  I  remember  you  said  once,  in  talking  to  Mr.  Man- 
ning, that '  it  rolled  its  warm,  beautiful,  sparkling  waves 
of  thought  across  the  cold,  gray  sea  of  science,  just  like  the 
Gulf  Stream  it  treated  of.'     Two  of  the  descriptions  which 


514  ST.  ELMO. 

mamma  read, were  so  splendid  that  they  rang  in  my  eari 
like  the  music  of  the  Swiss  Bell-Ringers.  One  was  the  ac- 
count of  the  atmosphere,  by  Dr.  Buist  of  Bombay,  and  the 
other  was  the  description  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  which  was 
quoted  from  Schleiden's  Lecture.  My  fever  was  high,  and 
when  at  last  I  went  to  sleep,  I  had  a  queer  dream  about 
madrepores  and  medusas,  and  I  wrote  it  down  as  well  as  I 
could,  and  called  it  '  Algaa  Adventures,  in  a  Voyage  Round 
the  World.'  Edna,  I  have  stolen  something  from  you,  and 
as  you  will  be  sure  to  find  it  out  when  you  read  my  little 
story,  where  there  is  a  long,  hard  word  missing  in  the  ms., 
I  will  tell  you  about  it  now.  Do  you  recollect  talking  to 
me  one  evening,  when  we  were  walking  on  the  beach  at 
The  Willows,  about  some  shell-clad  animalcula,  which  you 
said  were  so  very  small  that  Professor  Schultze,  of  Bonn, 
found  no  less  than  a  million  and  a  half  of  their  minute  shells 
in  an  ounce  of  pulverized  quartz,  from  the  shore  of  Mola  di 
Gaeta  ?  Well,  I  put  all  you  told  me  in  my  little  ms.  ;  but, 
for  my  life,  I  could  not  think  of  the  name  of  the  class  to 
which  they  belong.     Do  you  recollect  it  ?" 

"  Let  me  think  a  moment.  Was  it  not  Foraminifera  ?" 
"  That's  the  identical  word — '  Foraminifera  !'  No  won- 
der I  could  not  thiuk  of  it !  Six  syllables  tied  up  in  a  sci- 
entific knot.  Phew !  it  makes  my  head  ache  worse  to  try 
to  recollect  it.  How  stoop-shouldered  your  memory  must 
be  from  carrying  such  heavy  loads  !  It  is  a  regular  camel." 
"  Yes  ;  it  is  a  meek,  faithful  beast  of  burden,  and  will 
very  willingly  bear  the  weight  of  that  scientific  name  until 
you  want  to  use  it  •,  so  do  not  tax  your  mind  now.  You 
Raid  you  stole  it  from  me,  but  my  dear,  ambitious  author- 
ling,  my  little  round-jacket  scribbler,  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand distinctly  that  I  do  not  consider  that  I  have  been 
robbed.  The  fact  was  discovered  by  Professor  Schultze, 
and  bequeathed  by  him  to  the  world.  From  that  instant 
it  became  universal,  common  property,  which  any  man, 
woman,  or  child  may  use  at  pleasure,  provided  a  tribute 


ST.  ELMO.  515 

of  gratitude  is  paid  to  the  donor.  Every  individual  is  in 
some  sort  an  intellectual  bank,  issuing  bills  of  ideas,  (^ery 
often  specious,  but  not  always  convertible  into  gold  cr  sil- 
ver ;)  and  now,  my  precious  little  boy,  recollect  that  just 
as  long  as  I  have  any  capital  left,  you  can  borrow ;  and 
some  day  I  will  turn  Shylock,  and  make  you  pay  me  with 
usury." 

"  Edna,  I  should  like  above  all  things  to  write  a  book  of 
stories  for  poor,  sick  children  ;  little  tales  that  would  make 
them  forget  their  suffering  and  deformity.  If  I  could  even 
reconcile  one  lame  boy  to  being  shut  up  in-doors,  while 
others  are  shouting  and  skating  in  the  sunshine,  I  should 
not  feel  as  if  I  were  so  altogether  useless  in  the  world. 
Edna,  do  you  think  that  I  ever  shall  be  able  to  do  so  ?" 

"  Perhaps  so,  dear  Felix  ;  certainly,  if  God  wills  it. 
When  you  are  stronger  we  will  study  and  write  together, 
but  to-day  you  must  compose  yourself  and  be  silent.  Your 
fever  is  rising." 

"  The  doctor  left  some  medicine  yonder  in  that  goblet, 
but  mamma  has  forgotten  to  give  it  to  me.  I  will  take  a 
spoonful  now,  if  you  please." 

His  face  was  much  flushed ;  and  as  she  kissed  him  and 
turned  away,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh !  where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  To  my  room,  to  take  off  my  bonnet." 

"Do  not  be  gone  long.  I  am  so  happy  now  that  you  are 
here  again.  But  I  don't  want  you  to  get  out  of  my  sight 
Come  back  soon,  and  bathe  my  head." 

On  the  following  day,  when  Mr.  Manning  called  to  wel- 
come her  home,  he  displayed  an  earnestness  and  depth  of 
feeling  which  surprised  the  governess.  Putting  his  hand 
on  her  arm,  he  said  in  a  tone  that  had  lost  its  metallic 
ring: 

"  How  fearfully  changed  since  I  saw  you  last !  I  knew 
you  were  not  strong  enough  to  endure  the  trial ;  and  if  I 
had  had  a  right  to  interfere,  you  should  never  have  gone." 


516  ST.  ELMO. 

"  Mr.   Manning,  I  do  not  quite  comprehend   your  allu 
sion." 

"  Edna,  to  see  you  dying  by  inches  is  bitter  indeed  !  1 
believed  that  you  would  marry  Murray — at  least  I  knew 
any  other  woman  would — and  I  felt  that  to  refuse  his  af- 
fection would  be  a  terrible  tiial,  through  which  you  could 
not  pass  with  impunity.  Why  you  rejected  him  I  have  no 
right  to  inquire,  but  I  have  a  right  to  ask  you  to  let  me 
save  your  life.  I  am  well  aware  that  you  do  not  love  me  ; 
but  at  least  you  can  esteem  and  entirely  trust  me  ;  and 
once  more  I  hold  out  my  hand  to  you  and  say,  give  me  the 
wreck  of  your  life  !  oh  !  give  me  the  ruins  of  your  heart ! 
I  will  guard  you  tenderly  ;  we  will  go  to  Europe — to  the 
East ;  and  rest  of  mind,  and  easy  travelling,  and  change  of 
scene,  will  restore  you.  I  never  realized,  never  dreamed 
how  much  my  happiness  depended  upon  you,  until  you  left 
the  city.  I  have  always  relied  so  entirely  upon  myself,  feel- 
ing the  need  of  no  other  human  being ;  but  now,  separated 
from  you  I  am  restless,  am  conscious  of  a  vague  discontent. 
If  you  spend  the  next  year  as  you  have  spent  the  last,  you 
will  not  survive  it.  I  have  conferred  with  your  physician. 
He  reluctantly  told  me  your  alarming  condition,  and  I  have 
come  to  plead  with  you  for  the  last  time  not  to  continue 
your  suicidal  course,  not  to  destroy  the  life  which,  if  worth- 
less to  you,  is  inexpressibly  precious  to  a  man  who  prays 
to  be  allowed  to  take  care  of  it.  A  man  who  realizes  that 
it  is  necessary  to  the  usefulness  and  peace  of  his  own  lone- 
ly life;  who  wishes  no  other  reward  on  earth  but  the  privi- 
]o.ge  of  looking  into  your  approving  eyes,  when  his  daily 
vi  ork  is  ended,  and  he  sits  down  at  his  fireside.  Edna,  I 
do  not  ask  for  your  love,  but  I  beg  for  your  hands  your 
confidence,  your  society — for  the  right  to  save  you  from 
toil.     Will  you  go  to  the  Old  World  with  me  ?" 

Looking  suddenly  up  at  him,  she  was  astonished  to  find 
tears  in  his  searching  and  usually  cold  eyes. 

Scandinavian  tradition  reports  that  seven  parishes  were 


ST.  ELMO.  517 

once  overwhelmed,  and  still  lie  buried  unier  snow  and  ice, 
and  yet  occasionally  those  church-bells  are  heard  ringing 
clearly  under  the  glaciers  of  the  Folge  Fond. 

So,  in  the  frozen,  crystal  depths  of  this  man's  nature,  his 
long  silent,  smothered  affections  began  to  chime. 

A  proud  smile  trembled  over  Edna's  face,  as  she  saw 
hew  entirely  she  possessed  the  heart  of  one, whom  above 
all  other  men  she  most  admired. 

"  Mr.  Manning,  the  assertion  that  you  regard  your  life  as 
imperfect,  incomplete,  without  the  feeble  complement  of 
mine — that  you  find  your  greatest  happiness  in  my  society, 
is  the  most  flattering,  the  most  gratifying  tribute  which 
ever  has  been,  or  ever  can  be  paid  to  my  intellect.  It  is  a 
triumph  indeed  ;  and,  because  unsought,  surely  it  is  a  par- 
donable pride  that  makes  my  heart  throb.  This  assurance 
of  your  high  regard  is  the  brightest  earthly  crown  I  shall 
ever  wear.  But,  sir,  you  err  egregiously  in  supposing  that 
you  would  be  happy  wedded  to  a  woman  who  did  not  love 
you.  You  think  now  that  if  we  were  only  married,  my 
constant  presence  in  your  home,  my  implicit  confidence  in 
your  character,  would  fully  content  you ;  but  here  you  fail 
to  understand  your  own  heart,  and  I  know  that  the  con- 
sciousness that  my  affection  was  not  yours  would  make 
you  wretched.  No,  no !  my  dear,  noble  friend !  God 
never  intended  us  for  each  other.  I  can  not  go  to  the  Old 
World  with  you.  I  know  how  peculiarly  precarious  is  my 
tenure  of  life,  and  how  apparently  limited  is  my  time  for 
work  in  this  world,  but  I  am  content.  I  try  to  labor  faith- 
fully, listening  for  the  summons  of  Him  who  notices  even 
the  death  of  sparrows.  God  will  not  call  me  hence,  so  long 
as  He  has  any  work  for  me  to  do  on  earth ;  and  when  I  be- 
come useless,  and  can  no  longer  serve  Him  here,  I  do  not 
wish  to  live.  Through  Christ  I  am  told,  'Let  not  your 
heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid.'  Mr.  Manning, 
I  am  not  ignorant  of,  nor  indifferent  to,  my  physical  condi 


518  ST.  ELMO. 

tion ;  but,  thank  God!  I  can  say  truly,  I  am  not  tumbled 
neither  am  I  afraid,  and  my  faith  is — 

'  All  as  God  wills,  who  wisely  heeds, 

To  give  or  to  withhold, 
And  knoweth  more  of  all  my  needs 
Than  all  my  prayers  have  told.' " 

The  editor  took  off  his  glasses  and  wiped  them,  but  the 
dimness  was  in  his  eyes ;  and  after  a  minute,  during  which 
he  recovered  his  cold  calmness,  and  hushed  the  holy  chime, 
muffling  the  Folge  Fond  bells,  he  said  gravely  and  quietly  : 

"  Edna,  one  favor,  at  least,  you  will  grant  me.  The 
death  of  a  relative  in  Louisiana  has  placed  me  in  possession 
of  an  ample  fortune,  and  I  wish  you  to  take  my  little  Lila 
and  travel  for  several  years.  You  are  the  only  woman  I 
ever  knew  to  whom  I  would  intrust  her  and  her  education, 
and  it  would  gratify  me  beyond  expression  to  feel  that  I 
had  afforded  you  the  pleasure  which  can  not  fail  to  result 
from  such  a  tour.  Do  not  be  too  proud  to  accept  a  little 
happiness  from  my  hands." 

"  Thank  you,  my  generous,  noble  friend  !  I  gratefully 
accept  a  great  deal  of  happiness  at  this  instant,  but  your 
kind  offer  I  must  decline.     I  can  not  leave  Felix." 

He  sighed,  took  his  hat,  and  his  eyes  ran  over  the  face 
and  figure  of  the  governess. 

"  Edna  Earl,  your  stubborn  will  makes  you  nearly  akin 
to  those  gigantic  fuci  which  are  said  to  grow  and  flourish 
as  submarine  forests  in  the  stormy  channel  of  Terra  del 
Fuego,  where  they  shake  their  heads  defiantly,  always  trem- 
bling, always  triumphing,  in  the  fierce  lashing  of  waves 
that  wear  away  rocks.  You  belong  to  a  very  rare  order  of 
human  algae,  rocked  and  reared  in  the  midst  of  tempests 
that  would  either  bow  down,  or  snap  asunder,  or  beat  out 
most  natures.  As  you  will  not  grant  my  petition,  try  to 
forget  it ;  we  will  bury  the  subject.  Good-by !  I  shall 
call  to-morrow  afternoon  to  take  you  to  ride." 


Sl\  ELMO.  519 

With  renewed  zest  Edna  devoted  every  moment  stolen 
from  Felix,  to  the  completion  of  her  new  book.  Her  first 
bad  been  a  "bounteous  promise" — at  least  so  said  critic- 
dom — and  she  felt  that  the  second  would  determiije  her  lit- 
erary position,  would  either  place  her  reputation  as  an 
author  beyond  all  cavil,  or  utterly  crush  her  ambition. 

Sometimes  as  she  bent  over  her  MS.,  and  paused  to  re-read 
some  passage  just  penned,  which  she  had  laboriously  com- 
posed, and  thought  particularly  good  as  an  illustration  of 
the  idea  she  was  striving  to  embody  perspicuously,  a  smile 
would  flit  across  her  countenance  while  she  asked  herself: 

"  Will  my  readers  see  it  as  I  see  it  ?  Will  they  thank 
me  for  my  high  opinion  of  their  culture,  in  assuming  that 
it  will  be  quite  as  plain  to  them  as  to  me  ?  If  there  should 
accidentally  be  an  allusion  to  classical  or  scientific  literature, 
which  they  do  not  understand  at  the  first  hasty,  careless, 
novel- reading  glance,  will  they  inform  themselves,  and  t,hen 
appreciate  my  reason  for  employing  it,  and  thank  me  for 
the  hint ;  or  \r  ill  they  attempt  to  ridicule  my  pedantry  ? 
When'  will  tin  j  begin  to  suspect  that  what  they  may  im- 
agine sounds  '  learned '  in  my  writings,  merely  appears  so 
to  them  because  they  have  not  climbed  high  enough  to  see 
how  vast,  ho  v  infinite  is  the  sphere  of  human  leainring  ? 
No,  no,  dear  reader  shivering  with  learning-phobia,  I  am 
not  learned.  You  are  only  a  little,  a  very  little  more  igno- 
rant. Doubtless  you  know  many  things  which  I  should  be 
glad  to  learn  ;  come,  let  us  barter.  Let  us  all  study  the  life 
of  Giovanni  Pico  Mirandola,  and  then  we  shall  begin  to 
understand  the  meaning  of  the  word  '  learned.'  " 

Edna  unintentionally  and  continually  judged  her  readers 
according  to  her  own  standard,  and  so  eager,  so  unquench- 
able was  ber  thirst  for  knowledge,  that  she  could  no: 
understand  how  the  utterance  of  some  new  fact,  or  the  re- 
dressing ai  d  presentation  of  some  forgotten  idea,  could 
possibly  be  regarded  as  an  insult  by  the  person  thus  bene- 
fited.    He/   first  book  taught  her  that  what  was  termed 


520  ST.  ELMO. 

her  "  surplus  paraded  erudition,"  had  wounded  the  amoi  r 
propre  of  the  public  ;  but  she  was  conscientiously  experi- 
menting on  public  taste,  and  though  some  of  her  indolent, 
luxurious  readers,  who  wished  even  their  thinking  done  by- 
proxy,  shuddered  at  the  "  spring  water  pumped  upon  their 
nerves,"  she  good-naturedly  overlooked  their  grimaces  and 
groans,  and  continued  the  hydropathic  treatment  even  in 
her  second  book,  hoping  some  good  effects  from  the  shock. 
Of  one  intensely  gratifying  fact  she  could  not  fail  to  be 
thoroughly  informed,  by  the  avalanche  of  letters  which 
almost  daily  covered  her  desk ;  she  had  at  least  ensconced 
herself  securely  in  a  citadel,  whence  she  could  smilingly  defy 
all  assaults — in  the  warm  hearts  of  her  noble  countrywomen. 
Safely  sheltered  in  their  sincere  and  devoted  love,  she  cared 
little  for  the  shafts  that  rattled  and  broke  against  the  rocky 
ramparts,  and,  recoiling,  dropped  out  of  sight  in  the  moat 
below. 

So  with  many  misgivings,  and  much  hope,  and  great 
patience,  she  worked  on  assiduously,  and  early  in  summer 
her  book  was  finished  and  placed  in  the  publisher's  hands. 

In  the  midst  of  her  anxiety  concerning  its  reception,  a 
new  and  terrible  apprehension  took  possession  of  her;  for  it 
became  painfully  evident  that  Felix,  whose  health  had  never 
been  good,  was  slowly  but  steadily  declining. 

Mrs.  Andrews  and  Edna  took  him  to  Sharon,  to  Saratoga, 
and  to  various  other  favorite  resorts  for  invalids,  but  with 
no  visible  results  that  were  at  all  encouraging,  and  at  last 
they  came  home  almost  disheartened.  Dr.  Howell  finally 
prescribed  a  sea-voyage,  and  a  sojourn  of  some  weeks  at 
Eaux  Bonne  in  the  Pyrenees,  as  those  waters  had  effected 
some  remarkable  cures. 

As  the  doctor  quitted  the  parlor,  where  he  had  held  a 
conference  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Andrews,  the  latter  turned 
to  her  husband,  saying  : 

"  It  is  useless  to  start  anywhere  with  Felix  unless  Miss 
Earl  can  go  with  us ;  for  he  would  fret  himself  to  death  in  a 


ST.  ELMi,  521 

week.  Really,  Louis,  it  is  astonishin0  to  see  huw  dc\  Dted 
they  are  to  each  other.  Feeble  as  that  woman  is,  she  will 
always  sit  up  whenever  there  is  any  medicine  to  he  given 
during  the  night;  and  while  he  was  so  ill  at  Sharon,  she 
did  not  close  her  eyes  for  a  week.  I  can't  help  feeling  jeab 
ous  of  his  affection  for  her,  and  I  spoke  to  her  about  it.  He 
was  asleep  at  the  time,  with  his  hand  grasping  one  of  hers ; 
and  when  I  told  her  how  trying  it  was  for  a  mother  to  see 
her  child's  whole  heart  given  to  a  stranger,  to  hear  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night,  '  Edna,'  always  '  Edna,'  never  once 
'  mamma,'  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  strange  suffering 
expression  that  came  into  her  pale  face.  Her  lips  trembled 
so  that  she  could  scarcely  speak ;  but  she  said  meekly,  '  Oh  ! 
forgive  me  if  I  have  won  your  child's  heart ;  but  I  love  him. 
You  have  your  husband  and  daughter,  your  brother  and  sis- 
ter ;  but  I — oh  !  I  have  only  Felix  !  I  have  nothing  else  to 
cling  to  in  all  this  world  !'  Then  she  kissed  his  poor  little 
fingers,  and  wept  as  if  her  heart  would  break,  and  wrung 
her  hands,  and  begged  me  again  and  again  to  forgive  her 
if  he  loved  her  best.  She  is  the  strangest  woman  I  ever 
knew  ;  sometimes  when  she  is  sitting  by  me  in  church,  I 
watch  her  calm,  cold,  white  face,  and  she  makes  me  think 
of  a  snow  statue  ;  but  if  Felix  says  any  thing  to  arouse  her 
feelings  and  call  out  her  affection,  she  is  a  volcano.  It  is  very 
rarely  that  one  finds  a  beautiful  woman,  distinguished  by 
her  genius,  admired  and  courted  by  the  reading  public,  de- 
voting herself  as  she  does  to  our  dear  little  crippled  darling. 
While  I  confess  I  am  jealous  of  her,  her  kindness  to  my 
child  makes  me  love  her  more  than  I  can  express.  Louis, 
she  must  go  with  us.  Poor  thing  !  she  seems  to  be  failing 
almost  as  fast  as  Felix  ;  and  I  verily  believe  if  he  should 
die,  it  would  kill  her.  Did  you  notice  how  she  paced  the 
floor  while  the  doctors  were  consulting  in  Felix's  room  ? 
She  loves  nothing  but  my  precious  lame  boy." 

"  Certainly,  Kate,  she  must  go  with  you.     I  quite  agree 
witl  you,  my  clear,  that  Felix  is  dependent  upon  her,  and 


522  ST.  -ELMO. 

■would  not  derive  half  the  benefit  from  the  trip,  if  she  re 
mainel  at  home.  I  confess  she  has  cured  :jie  tD  a  great 
extent,  of  my  horror  of  literary  characters.  She  is  the  only 
one  I  ever  saw  who  waa  really  lovable,  and  not  a  walking 
parody  on  her  own  writings.  You  would  be  surprised  at 
the  questions  constantly  asked  me,  about  her  habits  and 
temper.  People  seem  so  curious  to  learn  all  the  routine  ol 
her  daily  life.  Last  week  a  member  of  our  club  quoted 
something  from  her  writings,  and  said  that  she  was  one  of 
the  few  authors  of  the  day  whose  books,  without  having 
first  examined,  he  would  put  into  the  hands  of  his  daugh- 
ters. He  remarked :  '  I  can  trust  my  girls'  characters  to 
her  training,  for  she  is  a  true  woman ;  and  if  she  errs  at  all 
in  any  direction,  it  is  the  right  one,  only  a  little  too  rigidly 
followed.'  I  am  frequently  asked  how  she  is  related  to  me, 
for  people  can  not  believe  that  she  is  merely  the  governess 
of  our  children.  Kate,  will  you  tell  her  that  it  is  my 
desire  that  she  should  accompany  you  ?  Speak  to  her  at 
once,  that  I  may  know  how  many  state-rooms  I  shall  en- 
gage on  the  steamer." 

"  Come  with  me,  Louis,  and  speak  to  her  yourself." 

They  w-ent  up-stairs  together,  and  paused  on  the  thresh- 
old of  Felix's  room,  to  observe  wThat  was  passing  within. 

The  boy  was  propped  by  pillows  into  an  upright  position 
on  the  sofa,  and  was  looking  curiously  into  a  small  basket 
which  Edna  held  on  her  lap. 

She  was  reading  to  him  a  touching  little  letter  just  re- 
ceived from  an  invalid  child,  wrho  had  never  walked,  who 
was  confined  always  to  the  house,  and  wrote  to  thank  her, 
in  sweet,  childish  style,  for  a  story  which  she  had  read  in 
the  Magazine,  and  which  made  her  very  happy. 

The  invalid  stated  that  her  chief  amusement  consisted  in 
tending  a  few  flowers  that  grew  in  pots  in  her  windows ; 
and  in  token  of  her  gratitude,  she  had  made  a  nosegay  of 
mignonnette,  pansies,  and  geranium  and  wax-plant  leaves, 
which  she  sent  with  her  scrawling  letter. 


ST.  ELMO.  523 

In  conclusion,  the  child  asked  that  the  tfoman  whom, 
■without  having  seen,  she  yet  loved,  would  be  so  kind  as  to 
give  her  a  list  of  such  books  as  a  little  girl  ought  to  study, 
and  to  write  her  "just  a  few  lines"  that  she  could  keep 
under  her  pillow,  to  look  at  now  and  then.  As  Edna  fin- 
ished reading  the  note,  Felix  took  it  to  examine  the  small 
indistinct  characters,  and  said: 

"  Dear  little  thing !  Don't  you  wish  we  knew  her  ? 
'  Louie  Lawrence.'     Of  course  you  will  answer  it,  Edna  ?" 

"  Yes,  immediately,  and  tell  her  how  grateful  I  am  for 
her  generosity  in  sparing  me  a  portion  of  her  j)et  flowers. 
Each  word  in  her  sweet  little  letter  is  as  precious  as  a 
pearl,  for  it  came  from  the  very  depths  of  her  pure  heart." 

"  Oh !  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  feel  that  you  are 
doing  some  good  in  the  world  !  That  little  Louie  says  she 
prays  for  you  every  night  before  she  goes  to  sleep  !  What  a 
comfort  such  letters  must  be  to  you  !  Edna,  how  happy 
you  look !  But  there  are  tears  shining  in  your  eyes,  they 
always  come  when  you  are  glad.  What  books  will  you  tell 
her  to  study  ?" 

"  I  will  think  about  the  subject,  and  let  you  read  my 
answer.  Give  me  the  '  notelet  ;'  I  want  to  put  it  away 
securely  among  my  treasures.  How  deliciously  fragrant 
the  flowers  are  !  Only  smell  them,  Felix  !  Here,  my  dar- 
ling, I  will  give  them  to  you,  and  write  to  the  little  Louie 
how  happy  she  made  two  people." 

She  lifted  the  delicate  bouquet  so  daintily  fashioned  by 
fairy  child-fingers,  inhaled  the  rich  perfume,  and,  as  she  put 
it  in  the  thin  fingers  of  the  cripple,  she  bent  forward  and 
kissed  his  fever-parched  lips.  At  this  instant  Felix  saw  his 
parents  standing  at  the  door,  and  held  up  the  flowers  tri- 
ll raphantly. 

"O  mamma!  come  smell  this  mignonnette.  Why  can't 
we  grow  some  in  boxes,in  our  windows?" 

Mr.  Andrews  leaned  over  his  son's  pillows,  softly  put  hia 
hand  on  the  boy's  forehead,  and  said : 


524  ST-  ELMO 

"  My  son,  Miss  Earl  professes  to  love  you  very  much,  but 
I  doubt  whether  she  really  means  all  she  says ;  and  1  am 
determined  to  satisfy  myself  fully.  Just  now  I  can  not 
leave  my  business,  but  mamma  intends  to  take  you  to 
Europe  next  week,  and  I  want  to  know  whether  Miss  Earl 
will  leave  all  her  admirers  here,  and  go  with  you,  and  r^elp 
mamma  to  nurse  you.     Do  you  think  she  will  ?" 

Mrs.  Andrews  stood  with  her  hand  resting  on  the  shoulder 
of  the  governess,  watching  the  varying  expression  of  her 
child's  countenance. 

"I  think,  papa — I  hope  she  will ;  I  believe  she " 

He  paused,  and,  struggling  up  from  his  pillows,  he 
stretched  out  his  poor  little  arms,  and  exclaimed : 

"  O  Edna !  you  will  go  with  me  ?  You  promised  you 
would  never  forsake  me !     Tell  papa  you  will  go." 

His  head  was  on  her  shoulder,  his  arms  were  clasped 
tightly  around  her  neck.  She  hid  her  face  on  his,  and  was 
silent. 

Mr.  Andrews  placed  his  hand  on  the  orphan's  bowed 
head. 

"  Miss  Earl,  you  must  let  me  tell  you  that  I  look  upon 
you  as  a  member  of  my  family ;  that  my  wife  and  I  love 
you  almost  as  well  as  if  you  were  one  of  our  children;  and 
I  hope  you  will  not  refuse  to  accompany  Kate  on  the  tour 
she  contemplates.  Let  me  take  your  own  father's  place ; 
and  I  shall  regard  it  as  a  great  favor  to  me  and  mine  if  you 
will  consent  to  go,  and  allow  me  to  treat  you  always  as  I 
do  my  Hattie.  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  derive  as  much 
benefit  from  travelling,  as  I  certainly  hope  for  Felix." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Andrews,  I  appreciate  your  generosity, 
and  I  prize  the  affection  and  confidence  which  you  and  your 
wife  have  shown  me.  I  came,  an  utter  stranger,  into  your 
house,  and  you  kindly  made  me  one  of  the  family  circle. 
I  am  alone  in  the  world,  and  have  become  strongly  at- 
tached to  your  children.  Felix  is  not  merely  my  dear  pupil, 
he  is  my  brother,  my  companion,  my  little  darling !     I  can 


ST.  ELMO.  525 

not  be  separated  from  him.  Next  to  his  mother  he  belongs 
to  me.  Oh  !  I  will  travel  with  him  anywhere  that  you  and 
Mrs.  Andrews  think  it  best  he  should  go.  I  wi-1  never, 
never  leave  him." 

She  disengaged  the  boy's  arms,  laid  hirn  back  on  his 
pillows,  and  went  to  her  own  room. 

In  the  midst  of  prompt  preparations  for  departure, Edna's 
new  novel  appeared.  She  had  christened  it  "Shining- 
Thrones  of  the  Hearth,"  and  dedicated  it  "  To  my 
countrywomen,  the  Queens  who  reign  thereon." 

The  aim  of  the  book  was  to  discover  the  only  true  and 
allowable  and  womanly  sphere  of  feminine  work,  and, 
though  the  theme  was  threadbare,  she  fearlessly  picked  up 
the  frayed  woof  and  rewove  it. 

The  tendency  of  the  age  was  to  equality  and  communism, 
and  this,  she  contended,  was  undermining  the  golden  thrones 
shining  in  the  blessed  and  hallowed  light  of  the  hearth, 
whence  every  true  woman  ruled  the  realm  of  her  own  fam- 
ily. Regarding  every pseudo  "reform"  which  struck  down 
the  social  and  political  distinction  of  the  sexes,  as  a  blow 
that  crushed  one  of  the  pillars  of  woman's  throne,  she 
earnestly  warned  the  Crowned  Heads  of  the  danger  to  be 
apprehended,  from  the  unfortunate  and  deluded  female  mal- 
contents, who,  dethroned  in  their  own  realm,  and  despised 
by  their  quondam  subjects,  roamed  as  pitiable,  royal  exiles, 
threatening  to  usurp  man's  kingdom  ;  and  to  proud,  happy 
mothers,  guarded  by  Praetorian  bands  of  children,  she  re* 
iterated  the  assurance  that 

"  Those  who  rock  the  cradle  rule  the  world." 

Most  assiduously  she  sifted  the  records  of  history,  tracing 
in  every  epoch  the  sovereigns  of  the  hearth-throne  who  nad 
reigned  wisely  and  contentedly,  ennobling  and  refining  hu- 
manity ;  and  she  proved  by  illustrious  examples  that  the 
borders  of  the  feminine  realm  could  not  be  enlarged,  with- 
out rendering  the  throne  unsteady,  and  subverting  God'a 


.526  ST.  ELMO. 

law  of  order.  Woman  reigned  by  divine  riglt  only  at 
home.  If  married,  in  the  hearts  of  husband  and  children, 
and  not  in  the  gilded,  bedizened  palace  of  fashion,  where 
thinly  veiled  vice  and  frivolity  hold  carnival,  and  social 
upas  and  social  asps  wave  and  trail.  If  single,  in  the  affec- 
tions of  brothers  and  sisters  and  friends,  as  the  golden  scep- 
tre in  the  hands  of  parents.  If  orphaned,  she  should  find 
sympathy  and  gratitude  and  usefulness  among  the  poor 
and  the  afflicted. 

Edna  attached  vast  importance  to  individual  influence, 
and  fearing  that  enthusiastic  young  minds  would  be  capti- 
vated by  the  charms  of  communism  in  labor,  she  analyzed 
the  systems  of  "  sisterhoods  "  which  had  waxed  and  waned 
from  the  Beguinages  of  the  eleventh  century, to  Kaisers- 
werth,  and  Miss  Sellon's  establishment  at  Devenport.  "While 
she  paid  all  honor  to  the  noble  self-abnegation  and  exalted 
charity  which  prompted  their  organization,  she  pointed  out 
some  lurking  dangers  in  all  systems  which  permanently  re- 
moved woman  from  the  heaven-decreed  ark  of  the  family 
hearthstone. 

Consulting  the  statistics  of  single  women,  and  familiariz- 
ing herself  with  the  arguments  advanced  by  the  advo- 
cates of  that  "  progress,"  which  would  indiscriminately 
throw  open  all  professions  to  women,  she  entreated  the 
poor  of  her  own  sex,  if  ambitious,  to  become  sculptors, 
painters,  writers,  teachers  in  schools  or  families ;  or  else  to 
remain  mantua-makers,  milliners,  spinners,  dairy-maids ; 
but  on  the  peril  of  all  womanhood  not  to  meddle  with  scal- 
pel or  red  tape,  and  to  shun  rostra  of  all  descriptions,  re- 
membering St.  Paul's  injunction,  that  "  It  is  not  permitted 
unto  women  to  speak  y"  and  even  that  "  It  is  a  shame  for 
women  to  sjoeaJc  in  the  church." 

To  married  women  who  thirsted  for  a  draught  of  the 
turbid  waters  of  politics,  she  said  :  "  If  you  really  desire  to 
serve  the  government  under  which  you  live,  recollect  that  it 
was  neither  the  speeches  thundered  from  the  forum,  nor  the 


ST.  ELMO.  527 

prayers  of  priests  and  augurs,  nor  the  iron  tramp  of  glitter* 
ing  legions,  but  the  ever  triumphant,  maternal  influence, 
the  potent,  the  pleading  '  My  son  !'  of  Volumnia,  the  mother 
of  Coriolanus,  that  saved  Rome." 

To  discontented  spinsters,  who  travelled  like  Pandora 
over  the  land,  haranguing  audiences  that  secretly  laughed 
at  and  despised  them,  to  these  unfortunate  women,  clamor- 
ing for  power  and  influence  in  the  national  councils,  she 
pointed  out  that  quiet  happy  home  at  '  Barley  Wood,' 
whence  immortal  Hannah  More  sent  forth  those  writings 
which  did  more  to  tranquillize  England,  and  bar  the  hearts 
of  its  yeomanry  against  the  temptations  of  red  republican- 
ism than  all  the  eloquence  of  Burke, and  the  cautious  mea- 
sures of  Parliament. 

Some  errors  of  style,  which  had  been  pointed  out  by 
critics  as  marring  her  earlier  writings,  Edna  had  endea- 
vored to  avoid  in  this  book,  which  she  humbly  offered  to  her 
countrywomen  as  the  best  of  which  she  was  capable. 

From  the  day  of  its  appearance  it  was  a  noble  success  ; 
and  she  had  the  gratification  of  hearing  that  some  of  the 
seed  she  had  sown  broadcast  in  the  land,  fell  upon  good 
ground,  and  promised  an  abundant  harvest. 

Many  who  called  to  bid  her  good-by  on  the  day  befoi'e 
the  steamer  sailed,  found  it  impossible  to  disguise  their  ap- 
prehension that  she  would  never  return  ;  and  some  who 
looked  tearfully  into  her  face  and  whispered  "  God  speed  !" 
thought  they  saw  the  dread  signet  of  death  set  on  her 
white  brow. 

To  Edna  it  was  inexpressibly  painful  to  cross  the  Atlan- 
tic while  Mr.  Hammond's  health  was  so  feeble ;  and  over 
the  long  farewell  letter  which  she  sent  him,  with  a  copy  of 
her  new  book,  the  old  man  wept.  Mrs.  Murray  had  seemed 
entirely  estranged  since  that  last  day  spent  at  Le  Bocage, 
and  had  not  written  a  line  since  the  orphan's  return  to  New- 
York.     But  when  she  received  the  new  novel,  and  the  affec* 


528  ST-  elmo. 

tionate,  mournful,  meek  note  that  accompanied  it,  Mrs.  Mur 
ray  laid  her  head  on  her  son's  bosom  and  sobbed  aloud. 

Dr.  Howell  and  Mr.  Manning  went  with  Edna  atoard 
the  steamer,  and  both  laughed  heartily  at  her  efforts  to  dis- 
engage herself  from  a  pertinacious  young  book-vender,  who, 
with  his  arms  full  of  copies  of  her  own  book,  stopped  her 
on  deck,  and  volubly  extolled  its  merits,  insisting  that  she 
should  buy  one  to  while  away  the  tedium  of  the  voyage. 

Dr.  Howell  gave  final  directions  concerning  the  treat- 
ment of  Felix,  and  then  came  to  speak  to  the  governess. 

"  Even  now,  sadly  as  you  have  abused  your  constitution, 
I  shall  have  some  hope  of  seeing  gray  hairs  about  your 
temples,  if  you  will  give  yourself  unreservedly  to  relaxa- 
tion of  mind.  You  have  already  accomplished  so  much, 
that  you  can  certainly  afford  to  rest  for  some  months 
at  least.  Read  nothing,  write  nothing,  (except  long  let- 
ters to  me,)  study  nothing  but  the  aspects  of  nature  in 
European  scenery,  and  you  will  come  back  improved,  to 
the  country  that  is  so  justly  proud  of  you.  Disobey  my 
injunctions,  and  I  shall  soon  be  called  to  mourn  over  the 
announcement  that  you  have  found  an  early  grave,  far  from 
your  native  land,  and  among  total  strangers.  God  bless 
you,  dear  child !  and  bring  you  safely  back  to  us." 

As  he  turned  away,  Mr.  Manning  took  her  hand  and  said  : 

"  I  hope  to  meet  you  in  Rome  early  in  February ;  but 
something  might  occur  to  veto  my  programme.  If  I  should 
never  see  you  again  in  this  world,  is  there  any  thing  that 
you  wish  to  say  to  me  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Manning.  If  I  should  die  in  Europe,  have  my 
body  brought  back  to  America  and  carried  to  the  South — 
my  own  dear  South,  that  I  love  so  well — and  bury  me  close 
to  Grandpa,  where  I  can  sleep  quietly  in  the  cool  shadow 
of  old  Lookout ;  and  be  sure,  please  be  sure  to  have  my 
name  carved  just  below  Grandpa's,  on  his  monument  I 
want  that  one  marble  to  stand  for  us  both." 

"  I  will.     Is  there  nothing  else  ?" 


ST.  ELMO.  529 

"  Thank  you,  my  clear,  good,  kind  friend  !    Nothing  else." 

"'  Edna,  promise  me  that  you  will  take  care  of  your  pre- 
ci  ,)us  life." 

"  I  will  try,  Mr.  Manning." 

lie  looked  down  into  her  worn,  weary  face  and  sighed  ; 
tien  for  the  first  time  he  took  both  her  hands,  kissed  them 
and  left  her. 

Swiftly  the  steamer  took  its  way  seaward ;  through  the 
Narrows,  past  the  lighthouse  ;  and  the  wind  sang  through 
the  rigging,  and  the  purple  hills  of  Jersey  faded  from  view, 
proving  Neversink  a  misnomer. 

One  by  one  the  passengers  went  below,  and  Edna  and 
Felix  were  left  on  deck,  with  stars  burning  above,  and  blue 
waves  bounding  beneath  them. 

As  the  cripple  sat  looking  over  the  solemn,  moaning 
ocean,  awed  by  its  brooding  gloom,  did  he  catch  in  the 
silvery  starlight  a  second  glimpse  of  the  rose-colorod  veils, 
and  snowy  vittae,  and  purple-edged  robes  of  the  Parcae, 
spinning  and  singing  as  they  followed  the  ship  across  the 
sobbing  sea  ?  He  shivered,  and  clasping  tightly  the  hand 
of  his  governess,  said  : 

"  Edna,  we  shall  never  see  the  Neversink  again." 

"  God  only  knows,  dear  Felix.     His  will  be  done." 

Over  the  rolling  waves  rang  the  ominous  ghostly  chant, 

"  Currite  ducentes,  subtemina  currite  fusi  !" 

And  faith,  clasping  the  cross  for  support,  listened,  and 
answered,  smiling  meekly : 

"  How  silverly  the  echoes  run — 
Thy  will  be  done — Thy  will  be  done." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

pRTHY  ?  No,  no!  Unworthy!  most  unwor- 
thy !  But  was  Thomas  worthy  to  tend  the  wan- 
i  IH  dering  sheep  of  Him, whom  face  to  face  he  doubt- 
ed? Was  Peter  worthy  to  preach  the  Gospel 
of  Him,  whom  he  had  thrice  indignantly  denied  ?  Was 
Paul  worthy  to  become  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  teach- 
ing the  doctrine  of  Him,  whose  disciples  he  had  persecuted 
and  slaughtered  ?  If  the  repentance  of  Peter  and  Paul 
availed  to  purify  their  hands  and  hearts,  and  sanctify  them 
to  the  service  of  Christ,  ah !  God  knows  my  contrition  has 
been  bitter  and  lasting  enough  to  fit  me  for  future  useful- 
ness. Eight  months  ago,  when  the  desire  to  become  a  min- 
ister seized  me  so  tenaciously,  I  wrestled  with  it,  tried  to 
crush  it ;  arguing  that  the  knowledge  of  my  past  life  of  sin- 
fulness would  prevent  the  world  from  trusting  my  profes- 
sions. But  those  who  even  slightly  understand  my  charac- 
ter, must  know  that  I  have  always  been  too  utterly  indiffer- 
ent to,  too  unfortunately  contemptuous  of  public  opinion, 
to  stoop  to  any  deception  in  order  to  conciliate  it.  More- 
over, the  world  will  realize  that  in  a  merely  worldly  point 
of  view  I  can  possibly  hope  to  gain  nothing,  by  this  step. 
If  I  were  poor,  I  might  be  accused  of  wanting  the  loaves 
and  fishes  of  tke  profession  ;  if  unknown  and  ambitious,  of 
seeking  eminence  and  popularity.  But  when  a  man  of  my 
wealth  and  social  position,  after  spending  half  of  his  life 
in  luxurious  ease  and  sinful  indulgence,  voluntarily  subjects 


ST  ELMO.  53^ 

himself  to  the  rigid  abstemiousness  and  self-sacrificing  re- 
quirements of  a  ministerial  career,  he  can  not  be  suspected 
of  hypocrisy.  After  all,  sir,  I  care  not  for  the  discussion, 
the  nine  days'  gossip  and  wonder,  the  gibes  and  comments 
my  course  may  occasion.  I  am  hearkening  to  the  counsel 
of  my  conscience  ;  I  am  obeying  the  dictates  of  my  heart. 
Feeling  that  my  God  accepts  me,  it  matters  little  that  men 
may  reject  me.  My  remorse,  my  repentance,  has  been  in- 
expressibly bitter ;  but  the  darkness  has  passed  away,  and 
to-day,  thank  God !  I  can  pray  with  all  the  fervor  and  faith 
of  my  boyhood,  when  I  knew  that  I  was  at  peace  with  my 
Maker.  Oblivion  of  the  past  I  do  not  expect,  and  perhaps 
should  not  desire.  I  shall  always  wear  my  melancholy 
memories  of  sin,  as  Mussulmen  wear  their  turban  or  pall- 
as  a  continual  memento  of  death.  Because  I  have  proved 
so  fully  the  inadequacy  of  earthly  enjoyments  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  a  soul ;  because  I  tried  the  alluring  pleasures 
of  sin,  and  was  satiated,  ah !  utterly  sickened,  I  turn  with 
panting  eagerness  to  the  cool,  quiet  peace  which  reigns  over 
the  life  of  a  true  Christian  pastor.  I  want  neither  fame 
nor  popularity,  but  peace  ! — peace  I  must  have  !  I  have 
hunted  the  world  over  and  over ;  I  have  sought  it  every- 
where else,  and  now,  thank  God  !  I  feel  that  it  is  descend- 
ing slowly,  slowly,  but  surely,  upon  my  lonely,  long-tor- 
tured heart.  Thank  God  !  I  have  found  peace  after  much 
strife  and  great  weariness " 

Mr.  Murray  could  no  longer  control  his  voice ;  and  as  he 
stood  leaning  against  the  mantel-piece  at  the  parsonage,  he 
dropped  his  head  on  his  hand. 

"  St.  Elmo,  the  purity  of  your  motives  will  never  be 
questioned,  for  none  who  know  you  could  believe  you  capa- 
ble of  dissembling  in  this  matter  ;  and  my  heart  can  scarce- 
ly contain  its  joy  when  I  look  forward  to  your  future,  so 
bright  with  promise,  so  full  of  usefulness.  The  marked 
change  in  your  manner  during  the  past  two  years,  has  pre- 
pared the  community  for  the  important  step  you  are  to  take 


532  ST.  ELMO. 

to-day,  and  your  influence  with  young  mp>n  wiL'  oe  ntalcula-- 
ble.  Once  your  stern  bitterness  iendered  you  an  object  of 
dread  ;  now  I  find  that  you  are  respected,  and  people  here 
watch  your  conduct  with  interest,  and  even  with  anxiety. 
Ah  St.  Elmo  !  I  never  imagined  earth  held  as  much  pure 
happiness  as  is  my  portion  to-day.  To  see  you  one  of  God's 
anointed  !  To  see  you  ministering  in  the  temple  !  Oh  !  to 
know  that  when  I  am  gone  to  rest  you  will  take  my  place, 
guard  my  flock,  do  your  own  work  and  poor  Murray's,  and 
finish  mine !  This,  this  is  indeed  the  crowning  blessing  of 
my  old  age." 

For  some  minutes  Mr.  Hammond  sobbed  ;  and,  lifting 
his  face,  Mr.  Murray  answered  : 

"  As  I  think  of  the  coming  years  consecrated  to  Christ, 
passed  peacefully  in  endeavoring  to  atone  for  the  injury  and 
suffering  I  have  inflicted  on  my  fellow-creatures ;  oh !  as 
the  picture  of  a  calm,  useful,  holy  future  rises  before  me,  I 
feel  indeed  that  I  am  unworthy,  most  unworthy  of  my  peace ; 
but  thank  God  ! 

'  Oh  !  I  see  the  crescent  promise  of  my  spirit  hath  not  set ; 
Ancient  founts  of  inspiration  well  through  all  my  fancy  yet.' " 

It  was  a  beautiful  Sabbath  morning,  just  one  year  after 
Edna's  departure  from  the  parsonage,  and  the  church  was 
crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity,  for  people  had  come  for 
many  miles  around,  to  witness  a  ceremony  the  announce- 
ment of  which,  had  given  rise  to  universal  comment.  As 
the  hour  approached  for  the  ordination  of  St.  Elmo  Murray 
to  the  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ,  even  the  doors  were  filled 
with  curious  spectators ;  and  when  Mr.  Hammond  and  St. 
Elmo  walked  down  the  aisle,  and  the  old  man  seated  him- 
self in  a  chair  within  the  altar,  there  was  a  general  stir  in 
the  congregation. 

The  officiating  minister  had  come  from  a  distant  city  to 
perform  a  ceremony  oi  more  than  usual  interest ;  and  when 
he  stood  ud  in  the  pulpit,  and  the  organ  thundered  through 


ST.  ELM.  58$ 

the  arches,  St.  Elmo  bowed  his  he^l  on  his  hand,  and  sat 
thus  during  the  hour  that  ensued. 

The  ordination  sermon  was  solemn  and  eloquent,  and 
preached  from  the  text  in  Romans  : 

"  For  when  ye  were  the  servants  of  sin,  ye  were  free 
from  righteousness.  But  now  being  made  free  from  sin, 
and  become  servants  to  God,  ye  have  your  fruit  unto  holi* 
ness,  and  the  end  everlasting  life." 

Then  the  minister,  having  finished  his  discourse,  came 
down  into  the  altar  and  commenced  the  services ;  but  Mr. 
Murray  sat  motionless,  with  his  countenance  concealed  by 
his  hand.  Mr.  Hammond  approached  and  touched  him, 
and,  as  he  rose,  led  him  to  the  altar,  and  presented  him  as 
a  candidate  for  ordination. 

There,  before  the  shining  marble  pulpit  which  he  had 
planned  and  built  in  the  early  years  of  his  life,  for  the  idol 
of  his  youth,  stood  St.  Elmo  ;  and  the  congregation,  espe 
cially  those  of  his  native  village,  looked  with  involuntary 
admiration  and  pride  at  the  erect,  powerful  form,  clad  in 
its  suit  of  black — at  the  nobly-proportioned  head,  where 
gray  locks  were  visible. 

"  But  if  there  be  any  of  you  who  knoweth  any  impedi- 
ment or  crime,  for  the  which  he  ought  not  to  be  received 
into  this  holy  ministry,  let  him  come  forth,  in  the  name  of 
God,  and  show  what  the  crime  or  impediment  is." 

The  preacher  paused,  the  echo  of  his  words  died  away, 
and  perfect  silence  reigned.  Suddenly  St.  Elmo  raised  his 
eyes  from  the  railing  of  the  altar,  and,  turning  his  face 
slightly,  looked  through  the  eastern  window  at  the  ivy- 
draped  vault  where  slept  Murray  and  Annie.  The  world 
was  silent,  but  conscience  and  the  dead  accused  him.  An 
expression  of  intolerable  anguish  crossed  his  handsome  fea- 
tures, then  his  hands  folded  themselves  tightly  together  on 
the  top  of  the  marble  balustrade,  and  he  looked  appealingly 
up  to  the  pale  Jesus  staggering  under  his  cross. 

At  that  instant  a  spotless  white  pigeon  from  the  belfry, 


534  ST.  ELMO. 

found  its  way  into  the  church  through  the  open  doois,  cir 
cled  once  around  the  building,  fluttered  against  the  win- 
dow, hiding  momentarily  the  crown  of  thorns,  and,  fright- 
ened and  confused,  fell  upon  the  fluted  pillar  of  the  pulpit. 

An  electric  thrill  ran  through  the  congregation ;  and  as 
the  minister  resumed  the  services,  he  saw  on  St.  Elmo's  face 
a  light,  a  great  joy,  such  as  human  countenances  rarely 
wear  this  side  the  grave. 

When  Mr.  Murray  knelt  and  the  ordaining  hands  were 
laid  upon  his  head,  a  sob  was  heard  from  the  pew  where  his 
mother  sat,  and  the  voice  of  the  preacher  faltered  as  he  de- 
livered the  Bible  to  the  kneeling  man,  saying  : 

"  Take  thou  authority  to  preach  the  word  of  God,  and  to 
administer  the  holy  sacraments  in  the  congregation." 

There  were  no  dry  eyes  in  the  entire  assembly,  save  two 
that  looked  out,  coldly  blue,  from  the  pew  where  Mrs. 
Powell  sat  like  a  statue, between  her  daughter  and  Gordon 
Leigh. 

Mr.  Hammond  tottered  across  the  altar,  and  knelt  down 
close  to  Mr.  Murray ;  and  m/my  who  knew  the  history  of 
the  pastor's  family,  wept  as  the  gray  head  fell  on  the  broad 
shoulder  of  St.  Elmo,  whose  arm  was  thrown  around  the 
old  man's  form,  and  the  ordaining  minister,  with  tears  roll- 
ing over  his  face,  extended  his  hands  in  benediction  above 
them. 

"  The  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding, 
keep  your  hearts  and  minds  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of 
God,  and  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord ;  and  the  bless- 
ing of  God  Almighty,  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  be  among  you,  and  remain  with  you  alway." 

And  all  hearts  and  lips  present  whispered  "  Amen  !"  and 
the  organ  and  the  choir  broke  forth  in  a  grand  "  Gloria  in 
excelsis." 

Standing  there  at  the  chancel,  purified,  consecrated  hence- 
forth unreservedly  to  Christ,  Mr.  Murray  fooked  so  happy, 


ST.  ELMO.  5S5 

so  noble,  so  worthy  of  his  high  calling,  that  his  p/o.id,  fond 
mother  thought  his  face  was  fit  for  an  archangel's  wings. 

Many  persons  who  had  known  him  in  his  boyhood, came 
tip  witl  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  wrung  his  hand  silently. 
At  last  Huldah  pointed  to  the  white  pigeon,  that  was  now 
beating  its  wings  against  the  gilded  pipes  of  the  organ, 
and  savi,  in  that  singularly  sweet,  solemn,  hesitating  tone, 
with  which  children  approach  sacred  things  : 

"  O  Mr.  Murray !  when  it  fell  on  the  pulpit,  it  nearly 
took  my  breath  away,  for  I  almost  thought  it  was  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Tears.,  which  till  then  he  had  bravely  kept  back,  dripped 
over  his  face,  as  he  stooped  and  whispered  to  the  little  or- 
phan : 

"  Huldah,  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Comfortei*,  came  indeed ; 
but  it  was  not  visible,  it  is  here  in  my  heart." 

The  congregation  dispersed.  Mrs.  Murray  and  the 
preacher  and  Huldah  went  to  the  carriage ;  and,  leaning 
on  Mr.  Murray's  arm,  Mr.  Hammond  turned  to  follow,  but 
observing  that  the  church  was  empty,  the  former  said  : 

"  After  a  little,  I  will  come." 

The  old  man  walked  on,  and  Mr.  Murray  went  back  and 
knelt,  resting  his  head  against  the  beautiful  glittering  ba- 
lustrade, within  which  he  hoped  to  officiate  through  the 
remaining  years  of  his  earthly  career. 

Once  the  sexton,  who  was  waiting  to  lock  up  the  church, 
looked  in,  saw  the  man  praying  alone  there  at  the  altar, 
and  softly  stole  away. 

When  Mr.  Murray  came  out,  the  churchyard  seemed  de- 
serted ;  but  as  he  crossed  it,  going  homeward,  a  woman 
rose  from  one  of  the  tombstones  and  stood  before  him — - 
the  yellow-haired  Jezebel,  with  sapphire  eyes  and  soft, 
treacherous  red  lips,  who  had  goaded  him  to  madness  and 
blasted  the  best  years  of  his  life. 

At  sight  of  her  he  recoiled,  as  if  a  cobra  cajiello  had 
started  up  in  his  path. 


586  ST.  ELMO. 

"  St.  Elmo,  my  beloved !  in  the  name  of  other  c;iys  stop 
and  hear  me.  By  the  memory  of  our  early  love,  I  entreat 
you!" 

She  came  close  to  him,  and  the  alabaster  face  was  mar- 
vellously beautiful  in  its  expression  of  penitential  sweet- 
ness. 

"  St.  Elmo,  can  you  never  forgive  me  for  the  suffering  I 
caused  you,  in  my  giddy  girlhood  ?" 

She  took  his  hand  and  attempted  to  raise  it  to  her  lips ; 
but  shaking  off  her  touch,  he  stepped  back,  and  steadily 
they  looked  in  each  others  eyes. 

"  Agnes,  I  forgive  you.  May  God  pardon  your  sins,  as 
He  has  pardoned  mine !" 

He  turned  away,  but  she  seized  his  coat-sleeve  and  threw 
herself  before  him,  standing  with  both  hands  clasping  his 
arm. 

"  If  you  mean  what  you  say,  there  is  happiness  yet  in 
store  for  us.  O  St.  Elmo !  how  often  have  I  longed  to 
come  and  lay  my  head  down  on  your  bosom,  and  tell 
you  all.  But  you  were  so  stern  and  harsh  I  was  afraid. 
To-day  when  I  saw  you  melted,  when  the  look  of  your 
boyhood  came  dancing  back  to  your  dear  eyes,  I  was 
encouraged  to  hope  that  your  heart  had  softened  also 
toward  one,  who  so  long  possessed  it.  Is  there  hope  for 
your  poor  Agnes?  Hope  that  the  blind,  silly  girl,  who, 
ignorant  of  the  value  of  the  treasure,  slighted  and  spurned 
it,  may  indeed  be  pardoned,  when,  as  a  woman  realizing 
her  folly,  and  sensible  at  last  of  the  nobility  of  a  nature  she 
once  failed  to  appreciate,  she  comes  and  says — what  it  is 
so  hard  for  a  woman  to  say — '  Take  me  back  to  your  heart, 
gather  me  up  in  your  arms,  as  in  the  olden  days,  because — 
because  I  love  you  now;  because  only  your  love  can  make 
me  happy.'  St.  Elmo,  we  are  no  longer  young ;  but  believe 
me  when  I  tell  you  that  at  last — at  last — your  own  Agnes 
loves  you  as  she  never  loved  any  one,  even  in  her  girlhood. 
Once  I  preferred  my  cousin  Murray  to  you  ;  but  think  how 


ST.  ELMO.  537 

giddy  I  must  have  been, when  I  could  marry  jefore  a  year 
had  settled  the  sod  on  his  grave  ?  I  did  not  love  my  hus- 
band, but  I  married  him  for  the  same  reason  that  I  would 
have  married  you  then.  And  yet  for  that  there  is  some 
palliation.  It  was  to  save  my  father  from  disgrace  that  I 
sacrificed  myself ;  for  money  intrusted  to  his  keeping- 
money  belonging  to  his  orphan  ward — had  been  used  by 
Lim  in  a  ruinous  speculation,  and  only  prompt  repayment 
could  prevent  exposure.  Remember  I  was  so  young,  so 
vain,  so  thoughtless  then  !  St.  Elmo,  pity  me  !  love  me ! 
take  me  back  to  your  heart !  God  is  my  witness  that  I  do 
love  you  entirely  now  !  Dearest,  say,  '  Agnes,  I  will  for- 
give all,  and  trust  you  and  love  you  as  in  the  days  long 
past.' " 

She  tried  to  put  her  arms  up  around  his  neck  and  to  rest 
her  head  on  his  shoulder ;  but  he  resisted  and  put  her  at 
arm's  length  from  him. 

Holding  her  there,  he  looked  at  her  with  cold  scorn  in 
his  eyes, and  a  heavy  shadow  darkening  the  brow  that  five 
minutes  before  had  been  so  calm,  so  bright. 

"  Agnes,  how  dare  you  attempt  to  deceive  me,  after  all 
that  has  passed  between  us  ?  O  woman  !  In  the  name 
of  all  true  w  ™~nnhood  I  could  blush  for  you  !" 

She  struggled  to  free  herself,  to  get  closer  to  him,  but  his 
stern  grasp  was  relentless  ;  and,  as  tears  poured  down  her 
cheeks,  she  clasped  her  hands  and  sobbed  out : 

"You  do  not  believe  that  I  really  love  you!  Oh  J 
do  not  look  at  me  so  harshly  !  I  am  not  deceiving 
you;  as  I  hope  for  pardon  and  rest  for  my  soul — as  I 
hope  to  see  my  father's  face  in  heaven — I  am  not  de- 
ceiving' you!  I  do — I  do  love  you!  When  I  spoke  to 
you  about  Gertrude,  it  cost  me  a  dreadful  pang ;  but  I 
thought  you  loved  her  because  she  resembled  me ;  and  for 
my  child's  sake  I  crushed  my  own  hopes — I  wanted,  if  pos- 
sible, to.  save  her  from  suffering.  But  you  only  upbraided 
and  heaped  savage  sarcasms  upon  me.     O  St.  Elmo  !    if 


5S8  ST.  ELMO. 

you  could  indeed  see  my  poor  heart,  you  wouki.  not  /0.&2  %o 
cruelly  cold.  You  ought  to  know  that  I  am  terribly  in  ear- 
nest when  I  can  stoop  to  beg  for  the  ruins  of  a  heart,  which 
in  its  freshness  I  once  threw  away,  and  trampled  on." 

He  had  seen  her  weep  before,  when  it  suited  her  pur- 
pose, and  he  only  smiled  and  answered : 

"  Y  as,  Agnes,  you  ruined  it,  and  trampled  it  in  the  mire 
of  sin  ;  but  I  have  rebuilt  it,  and,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  I 
hope  I  have  purified  it.  Look  you,  woman !  when  you 
overturned  the  temple,  you  crumbled  your  own  image  that 
was  set  up  there  ;  and  I  long,  long  ago  swept  out  and  gaVe 
to  the  hungry  winds  the  despised  dust  of  the  broken  idol, 
and  over  my  heart  you  can  reign  no  more !  The  only  queen 
it  has  known  since  that  awful  night,  twenty-three  years 
ago,  when  my  faith,  hope,  charity  were  all  strangled  in  an 
instant  by  the  velvet  hand  I  had  kissed  in  my  doating  fond- 
ness— the  only  queen  my  heart  has  acknowledged  since  then, 
is  one  who,  in  her  purity  soars  like  an  angel  above  you  and 
me,  and  her  dear  name  is — Edna  Earl." 

"Edna  Earl ! — a  puritanical  fanatic  !  Nay,  a  Pharisee  ! 
A  cold  prude,  a  heartless  blue  !  A  woman  with  some  brain 
and  no  feeling,  who  loves  nothing  but  her  own  fame,  and 
has  no  sympathy  with  your  nature.  St.  Elmo,  are  you  in- 
sane !  Did  you  not  see  that  letter  from  Estelle  to  your 
mother,  stating  that  she,  Edna,  would  certainly  be  married 
in  February,  to  the  celebrated  Mr.  Manning,  who  was  then 
on  his  way  to  Rome  to  meet  her  ?  Did  you  see  that  let- 
ter ?" 

"I  did." 

"  And  discredit  it  ?  Blindness,  madness,  equal  to  my 
own  in  the  days  gone  by  !  Edna  Earl  exists  no  longer ; 
fshe  was  married  a  month  ago.  Here,  read  for  yourself,  or 
you  will  believe  that  I  fabricate  the  whole." 

She  held  a  newspaper  before  his  eyes,  and  he  saw  a  para- 
graph, marked  with  a  circle  of  ink,  "  Marriage  in  Literary 
Circles :" 


ST,  ELMO.  539 

"The  very  reliable  correspondent  of  the  ISTevV-Yoi.t 

Writes  from  Rome  that  the  Americans  now  in  that  city,  are 
on  the  qui  vine  concerning  a  marriage  announced  to  take 
place,  on  Thursday  next,  at  the  residence  of  the  American 
Minister.  The  very  distinguished  parties  are  Miss  Edna 
Earl,  the  gifted  and  exceedingly  popular  young  authoress, 
whose  works  have  given  her  an  enviable  reputation,  even 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  Mr.  Douglass  G.  Manning, 

the  well-known  and  able  editor  of  the Magazine.    The 

happy  pair  will  start,  immediately  after  the  ceremony,  on 
a  tour  through  Greece  and  the  Holy  Land." 

Mr.  Murray  opened  the  paper,  glanced  at  the  date,  and 
his  swarthy  face  paled  as  he  put  his  hands  over  his  eyes. 

Mrs.  Powell  came  nearer,  and  once  more  touched  his 
hand  ;  but,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  he  pushed  her  aside. 

"  Away,  woman !  Not  a  word — not  one  word  more  ! 
You  are  not  worthy  to  take  my  darling's  name  upon  your 
lips  !  She  may  be  Manning's  wife — God  forbid  it ! — or  she 
may  be  in  her  grave.  I  have  lost  her,  I  know ;  but  if  I 
never  see  her  dear  angel  face  again  in  this  world,  it  will  be 
in  consequence  of  my  sins,  and  of  yours  ;  and  with  God's 
help,  I  mean  to  live  out  the  remainder  of  my  days,  so  that 
at  last  I  shall  meet  her  in  eternity !  Leave  me,  Agnes ! 
Do  not  make  me  forget  the  vows  I  have  to-day  taken  upon 
myself,  in  the  presence  of  the  world  and  of  my  Maker.  In 
future,  keep  out  of  my  path,  which  will  never  cross  yours  ; 
do  not  rouse  the  old  hate  toward  you,  which  I  am  faithfully 
striving  to  overcome.  The  first  time  I  went  to  the  com- 
munion-table, after  the  lapse  of  all  those  dreary  years  of 
sin  and  desperation,  I  asked  myself,  '  Have  I  a  right  to  the 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  ? — can  I  face  God  and  say, 
I  forgive  Agnes  Powell  ?'  Finally,  after  a  hard  struggle,  I 
said,  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  'Even  as  I  need  and 
hope  for  forgiveness  myself,  I  do  fully  forgive  her.'  Mark 
you,  it  was  my  injuries  that  I  pardoned,  your  treachery 
that  I  forgave.  But  recollect  there  is  a  mournful  truth  in 
those  words:  ''There  is  no  pardon  for  desecrated  ideals! 


540  ST.  ELMO. 

Once,  in  the  flush  of  ray  youth,  I  selected  -j.oa  as  tie  beau 
ideal  of  beautiful,  perfect  womanhood  ;  but  you  fell  from 
that  lofty  pedestal  where  my  ardent,  boyish  love  set  you 
for  worship,  and  you  dragged  me  down,  down,  almost  be- 
yond the  pale  of  God's  mercy  !  I  forgive  all  my  wrongs ; 
but  '  take  you  back,  love  you  ?'  Ah !  I  can  never  love  any 
one,  I  never,  even  in  my  boyhood,  loved  you,  as  I  love  my 
pure  darling,  my  own  Edna  !  Her  memory  is  all  I  have  to 
cheer  and  strengthen  me  in  my  lonely  work.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  she  is  married;  no,  no,  but  she  is  in  her  grave. 
For  many  days  past,  I  have  been  oppressed  by  a  horrible 
presentiment  that  she  has  gone  to  her  rest  in  Christ — that 
the  next  steamer  will  bring  me  the  tidings  of  her  death. 
Do  not  touch  me,  Agnes  !  If  there  be  any  truth  in  what 
you  have  to-day  asserted  so  solemnly,  (though  I  can  not 
believe  it,  for  if  you  ridiculed  and  disliked  me  in  my  noble 
youth,  how  can  you  love  the  same  man  in  the  melancholy 
wreck  of  his  hopes  ?)  if  there  be  a  shadow  of  truth  in  your 
words,  you  are  indeed  to  be  pitied.  Ah !  you  and  I  have 
learned  at  a  terrible  price  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  the 
hollowness  of  this  world's  pleasures ;  and  both  have 
writhed  under  the  poisonous  fangs  that  always  dart  from 
the  dregs  of  the  cup  of  sin, which  you  and  I  have  drained. 
Experience  must  have  taught  you,  also,  what  I  was  so  long 
in  learning — the  utter  hopelessness  ofpeace  for  heart  and 
soul  save  only  through  that  religion,  which  so  far  subdues 
even  my  sinful,  vindictive,  satanic  nature,  that  I  can  say  to 
you — you  who  blasted  all  my  earthly  happiness — I  forgive 
you  my  sufferings,  and  hope  that  God  will  give  you  that 
pardon  and  comfort  which  after  awful  conflicts  I  have  found 
at  last.  Several  times  you  have  thrust  yourself  into  my 
presence ;  but  if  there  remains  any  womanly  delicacy  in 
your  nature,  you  will  avoid  me  henceforth  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  loathe  the  sight  of  one  whose  un womanliness  stabbed 
my  trust  in  womanhood,  and  sunk  me  so  low  that  I  lost 
Edna  Earl.  Agnes,  go  yonder — where  I  have  spent  so 
many  hours  of  agony — yonder  to  the  graves  of  your  vie* 


ST.  ELMO.  541 

tims  as  well  as  mine  .  Jo  down  on  your  knees  j  snder,  awl 
pray  for  yourself,  and  may  God  help  you !" 

He  pointed  to  the  gray  vault  and  the  slab  that  covered 
Annie  and  Murray  Hammond  ;  and  disengaging  her  fingers, 
which  still  clutched  his  sleeve,  he  turned  quickly  and  walked 
away. 

Her  mournful  eyes,  strained  wide  and  full  of  tears,  fol- 
lowed him  till  his  form  was  no  longer  visible ;  and  sinking 
down  on  the  monument — whence  she  had  risen  at  his  ap- 
proach— she  shrouded  her  fair,  delicate  features,  and  rocked 
herseli  to  and  fro  with  a  despairing  wail. 

"  Lost,  lost !  O  St.  Elmo  !  your  loathing  is  more  than  I 
can  bear.  Once  he  hung  over  me  adoringly,  wearying 
me  with  his  caresses ;  now  he  shudders  at  my  touch,  as  if  I 
were  a  viper.  And  I — what  is  there  that  I  would  not 
give  for  one — just  one — of  the  kisses,  which  twenty-three 
years  ago  I  put  up  my  hand  to  ward  off.  O  fool  that  I 
was !  I  cast  away  the  light  of  his  noble,  earnest  love,  and 
now  he  despises  me ;  and  I  must  walk  in  darkness  that 
groAvs  blacker  as  I  grope.  God  grant  that  Eclna  Earl  may 
indeed  be  in  her  grave !  Or  that  I  may  go  down  into 
mine  before  he  sees  her  again !  To  give  him  up  to  her, 
would  be  more  than  I  could  endure.  Oh !  curses  on  that 
calm  face  that  stole  the  heart  of  my  daughter's  husband, 
and  won  St.  Elmo's  love  from  me  !  How  I  hate  her !  Oh ! 
hold  her  fast  in  your  icy  grasp,  grim  death  !  For  to  see  her 
in  St.  Elmo's  arms,  would  drive  me  wild !  Sleep  in  peace, 
Murray  Hammond,  you  are  indeed  avenged." 

When  she  went  slowly  homeward  an  hour  later,  with  her 
veil  drawn  closely  over  her  tear-stained  face,  the  unvoiced 
wish  of  her  aching  heart  was  like  hopeless  GUnone's : 

"  0  death,  death,  death,  thou  ever-floating  cloud ! 
There  are  enough  unhappy  on  this  earth  ; 
Pass  by  the  happy  souls  that  love  to  live  : 
I  pray  thee  pass  before  my  light  of  life, 
And  shadow  all  my  soul,  that  I  may  die. 
Thou  weighest  heavy  on  the  heart  within, 
Weigh  heavy  on  my  eyerids  :  let  me  die." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


OW  lovely  !     Oh  !  I  did  not  think  there  was  any 
place  half  so  beautiful,  this  side  of  heaven  !" 

With  his  head  on  his  mother's  bosom,  Felix 
lay  near  the  window  of  an  upper  room,  looking 
out  over  the  Gulf  of  Genoa. 

The  crescent  curve  of  the  olive-mantled  Apennines  gir- 
dled the  city  in  a  rocky  clasp,  and  mellowed  by  distance 
and  the  magic  enamelling  of  evening  light,  each  particular 
peak  rose  against  the  chrysoprase  sky  like  a  pyramid  of 
lapis  lazuli,  around  whose  mighty  base  rolled  soft  waves 
of  golden  haze. 

Over  the  glassy  bosom  of  the  Gulf,  where  glided  boats 
filled  with  gay,  pleasure-seeking  Italians,  floated  the  merry 
strains  of  a  barcarole;  with  the  silvery  echo  of  "Fidulin" 
keeping  time  with  the  silvery  gleam  of  the  dipping  oars. 

"  And  the  sun  went  into  the  west,  and  down 
Upon  the  water  stooped  an  orange  cloud, 
And  the  pale  irrilky  reaches  flushed,  as  glad 
To  wear  its  colors ;  and  the  sultry  air 
Went  out  to  sea,  and  puffed  the  sails  of  ships 
With  thymy  wafts,  the  breath  of  trodden  grass." 

"  Lift  me  up,  mamma !  higher,  higher  yet.  I  want  to  see 
the  sun.  There  !  it  has  gone  —  gone  down  into  the  sea.  I 
can't  bear  to  see  it  set  to-day.  It  seemed  to  say  good-by  to 
me,  just  then.  O  mamma,  mamma  !  I  don't  want  to  die.  The 
world  is  so  beautiful,  and  life  is  so  sweet  up  here  in  the  sun- 


ST.  ELMO.  543 

shine  find  the  starlight,  and  it  is  so  ccud  and  daik  rlown 
there  in  the  grave.  Oh !  where  is  Edna  ?  Tell  her  tc  come 
quick  and  sing  something  to  me." 

The  cripple  shuddered  and  shut  his  eyes.     He  had  wasted 
away,  until  he  looked  a  mere  shadow  of  humanity,  and  hi? 
governess  stooped  and  took  him  from  his  mother's  arins  a 
if  ha  were  a  baby. 

"  Edna,  talk  to  me !  Oh !  don't  let  me  get  afraid  to  die  ! 
I " 

She  laid  her  lips  on  his,  and  the  touch  calmed  their  shiv- 
ering ;  and,  after  a  moment,  she  began  to  repeat  the  apo- 
calyptic vision  of  heaven : 

"  And  there  shall  be  no  night  there ;  and  they  need  no 
candle,  neither  light  of  the  sun ;  for  the  Lord  God  giveth 
thetn  light ;  and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 

"  But,  Edna,  the  light  does  not  shine  down  there  in 
the  grave.     If  you  could  go  with  me " 

"A  better  and  kinder  Friend  will  go  with  you,  dear  Felix." 

She  sang  with  strange  pathos  "Motet,"  that  beautiful 
arrangement  of  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd." 

As  she  reached  that  part  where  the  words,  "  Yea  though 
I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,"  are  re- 
peated, the  weak  quavering  voice  of  the  sick  boy  joined 
hers ;  and,  when  she  ceased,  the  emaciated  face  was  placid, 
the  great  dread  had  passed  awajr  for  ever. 

Anxious  to  divert  his  thoughts,  she  put  into  his  hand  a 
bunch  of  orange-flowers  and  violets,  which  had  beer,  sent 
to  her  that  day  by  Mr.  Manning ;  and  taking  a  book  from 
the  bed,  she  resumed  the  reading  of  "  The  Shepherd  of  Salis 
bury  Plain,"  to  which  the  invalid  had  never  wearied  of  listen- 
ing. 

But  she  soon  saw  that  for  once  he  was  indifferent ;  and, 
understanding  the  expression  of  the  eyes  that  gazed  out  on 
the  purple  shadows  shrouding  the  Apennines,  she  closed 
the  volume,  and  laid  the  sufferer  back  on  his  pillow. 

While  she  was  standing  before  a  table,  preparing  some 


544  ST.  ELMO. 

nourishment  to  be  given  to  him  during  the  night,  Mrs.  An 
drews  came  close  to  her  and  whispered : 

"  Do  you  see  much  change  ?  Is  he  really  worse,  or  do 
my  fears  magnify  every  bad  symptom  ?" 

"  He  is  much  exhausted,  but  I  trust  the  stimulants  will 
revive  him.  You  must  go  to  bed  early,  and  get  a  good 
sound  sleep,  for  you  look  worn  out.  I  will  wake  you  if  I 
see  any  decided  change  in  him." 

Mrs.  Andrews  hung  for  some  time  over  her  child's  pillow, 
caressing  him,  saying  tender,  soothing,  motherly  things; 
and,  after  a  while,  she  and  Hattie  kissed  him,  and  went  into 
the  adjoining  room,  leaving  him  to  the  care  of  one  whom 
he  loved  better  than  all  the  world  beside. 

It  was  late  at  night  before  the  sound  of  laughter,  song, 
and  chatter  died  away  in  the  streets  of  Genoa  the  magnifi- 
cent. While  the  human  tide  ebbed  and  flowed  under  the 
windows,  Felix  was  restless,  and  his  companion  tried  to  in- 
terest  him,  by  telling  him  the  history  of  the  Dorias,  and  of 
the  siege  during  which  Massena  won  such  glory.  Her  con 
versation  drifted  away,  even  to  Ancona,  and  that  sad  but 
touching  incident,  which  Sismondi  records,  of  the  noble 
patriotic  young  mother,  who  gave  to  a  starving  soldier  the 
milk  that  her  half-famished  babe  required,  and  sent  him, 
thus  refreshed  and  strengthened,  to  defend  the  walls  of  her 
beleaguered  city. 

The  boy's  fondness  for  history  showed  itself,  even  then, 
and  he  listened  attentively  to  her  words. 

At  length  silence  reigned  through  the  marble  palaces 
and  Edna  rose  to  place  the  small  lamp  in  an  alabaster  vase. 

As  she  did  so, something  flew  into  her  face,  and  fluttered 
to  the  edge  of  the  vase,  and  as  she  attempted  to  brush  it  off, 
she  started  back,  smothering  a  cry  of  horror.  It  was  the 
Sphinx  Atropos,  the  Death's  Head  Moth;  and  there,  upon 
its  breast,  appallingly  distinct,  grinned  the  ghastly  gray  hu- 
man skull.  Twice  it  circled  rapidly  round  the  vase,  utter- 
ing strange  stridulous  sounds,  then  floated  up  to  the  canopy 


ST.  ELMO.  545 

overarching  Felix's  bed,  and  poised  itself  ;n  Lie  carved 
frame,  waiting  and  flapping  its  wings,  vulture-like.  Shud- 
dering from  head  to  foot,  notwithstanding  the  protest  which 
reason  offered  against  superstition,  the  governess  sat  down 
to  watch  the  boy's  slumber. 

His  eye3  were  closed,  and  she  hoped  that  he  slept ;  but 
presently  he  feebly  put  out  his  skeleton  hand  aid  took 
hers. 

"  Edna,  mamma  can  not  hear  me,  can  she  ?" 

"  She  is  asleep,  but  I  will  wake  her  if  you  wish  it." 

"  JSTo,  she  would  only  begin  to  cry,  and  that  would  worry 

me.     Edna,  I  want  you  to  promise  me  one  thing "     He 

paused  a  few  seconds  and  sighed  wearily. 

"  When  you  all  go  back  home,  don't  leave  me  here ;  take 
me  with  you,  and  lay  my  poor  little  deformed  body  in  the 
ground,  at  '  The  Willows,'  where  the  sea  will  sing  over  me. 
We  were  so  happy  there  !  I  always  thought  I  should  like 
my  grave  to  be  under  the  tallest  willow,  where  our  canary's 
cage  used  to  hang.  Edna,  I  don't  think  you  will  live  long — 
I  almost  hope  you  won't — and  I  want  you  to  promise  me, 
too,  that  you  will  tell  them  to  bury  us  close  together ;  so 
that  the  very  moment  I  rise  out  of  my  grave,  on  the  day  of 
judgment,  I  will  see  your  face !  Sometimes,  when  I  think 
of  the  millions  and  millions  that  will  be  pressing  up  for 
their  trial  before  God's  throne,  on  that  great  awful  day,  I 
am  afraid  I  might  lose  or  miss  you  in  the  crowd,  and  never 
find  you  again  ;  but  you  know,  if  our  coffins  touch,  you  can 
stretch  out  your  hand  to  me  as  you  rise,  and  we  can  go  to- 
gether. Oh !  I  want  your  face  to  be  the  last  I  see  here, 
and  the  first — yonder." 

He  raised  his  fingers  slowly,  and  they  fell  bach;  wearily 
on  the  coverlet. 

"  Don't  talk  so,  Felix.      O  my  darling!    God  will  not 
take  you  away  from  me.     Try  to  sleep,  shut  your  eyes ; 
you  need  rest  to  compose  you." 
'  She  knelt  down,  kissed  him  repeatedly,  and  laid  her  face 


546  ST.  ELMO. 

close  to  his  on  the  pillow ;  and  he  tried  to  tin  i  and  pat  Lis 
emaciated  arm  around  her  neck. 

"Edna,  I  have  been  a  trouble  to  you  for  a  long  time ;  but 
you  will  miss  me  when  I  am  gone,  and  you  will  have  nothing 
to  love.  If  you  live  long,  marry  Mr.  Manning,  and  let  him 
take  care  of  you.  Don't  work  so  hard,  dear  Edna  ;  only 
rest,  and  let  him  make  you  happy.  Before  I  knew  you  I 
was  always  wishing  to  die ;  but  now  I  hate  to  leave  you  all 
alone,  my  own  dear,  pale  Edna." 

"  O  Felix,  darling  !  hush  !  Go  to  sleep.  You  wring 
my  heart!" 

Her  sobs  distressed  him,  and,  feebly  patting  her  cheek, 
he  said : 

"  Perhaps  if  you  will  sing  me  something  low,  I  may  go  to 
sleep,  and  I  want  to  hear  your  voice  once  more.  Sing  me 
that  song  about  the  child  and  the  rose-bush,  that  Hattie 
likes  so  much." 

"  Not  that !  any  thing  but  that !  It  is  too  sad,  my  pre- 
cious little  darling." 

"  But  I  want  to  hear  it ;  please,  Edna." 

It  was  an  exquisitely  painful  task  that  he  imposed,  but 
his  wishes  ruled  her ;  and  she  tried  to  steady  her  voice  as 
she  sang,  in  a  very  low,  faltering  tone,  the  beautiful  but 
melancholy  ballad.  Tears  rolled  over  her  face  as  she 
chanted  the  verses ;  and,  when  she  concluded,  he  repeated 
very  faintly : 

"  Sweetly  it  rests,  and  on  dreani-wings  flies, 
To  play  with  tlie  angels  in  paradise !  " 

lie  nestled  his  lips  to  hers,  and,  after  a  little  while,  mur 
mured : 

«  Good-night,  Edna !" 

"  Good-night,  my  darling  !" 

She  gave  him  a  stimulating  potion,  and  arranged  his  head 
comfortably.     Ere  long  his  heavy  breathing  told  her  that 


ST.  EiM^  547 

he  slept,  and,  stealing  from  his  side,  she  sat  down  in  .1  lai  ge 
chair  near  the  head  of  his  bed,  and  watched  him. 

For  many  months  he  had  been  failing,  and  they  had  trav- 
elled from  place  to  place,  hoping  against  hope  that  each 
change  would  certainly  be  beneficial. 

Day  and  night  Edna  had  nursed  him,  had  devoted  every 
thought,  almost  every  prayer  to  /him ;  and  now  her  heart 
seemed  centred  in  him.  Scenery,  music,  painting,  rare 
mss.,  all  were  ignored;  she  lived  only  for  that  poor  depend- 
ent boy,  and  knew  not  a  moment  of  peace  when  separated 
from  him.  She  had  ceased  to  study  aught  but  his  comfort 
and  hajDpiness,  had  written  nothing  save  letters  to  friends ; 
and  notwithstanding  her  anxiety  concerning  the  cripple, 
the  frequent  change  of  air  had  surprisingly  improved  her 
own  health.  For  six  months  she  had  escaped  the  attacks 
so  much  dreaded,  and  began  to  believe  her  restoration  com- 
plete, though  the  long-banished  color  obstinately  refused  to 
return  to  her  face,  which  seemed  unable  to  recover  its 
rounded  outline.  Still  she  was  very  grateful  for  the  immu- 
nity from  suffering,  especially  as  it  permitted  more  unre- 
mitting attendance  upon  Felix. 

She  knew  that  his  life  was  flickering  out  gently  but  sure- 
ly ;  and  now,  as  she  watched  the  pale,  pinched  features,  her 
own  writhed,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  and  wept,  and 
stifled  a  groan. 

She  had  prayed  so  passionately  and  continually  that  he 
might  be  spared  to  her ;  but  it  seemed  that  whenever  her 
heart-strings  wrapped  themselves  around  an  idol,  a  jealous 
God  tore  them  loose,  and  snatched  away  the  dear  object, 
and  left  the  heart  to  bleed.  If  that  boy  died,  how  utterly 
desolate  and  lonely  she  would  be  ;  nothing  left  to  care  for 
and  to  cling  to,  nothing  to  claim  as  her  own,  and  anoint 
with  the  tender  love  of  her  warm  heart. 

She  had  been  so  intensely  interested  in  the  expansion  of 
his  mind,  had  striven  so  tirelessly  to  stimulate  his  brain, 
and  soften  and  purify  his  heart ;  she  had  been  so  proud  of 


5-18  ST.  ELMO. 

his  rapid  progress,  and  so  ambitious  for  his  future,  and  uo^r 
the  mildew  of  death  was  falling  on  her  fond  hopes.  Ah ! 
she  had  borne  patiently  many  trials,  but  this  appeared  un- 
endurable. She  had  set  all  her  earthly  happiness  on  a 
little  thing — the  life  of  a  helpless  cripple;  and  as  she  gazed 
through  her  tears  at  that  shrunken,  sallow  face,  so  dear  to 
her,  it  seemed  hard !  hard  !  that  God  denied  her  this  one 
blessing  What  was  the  praise  and  admiration  of  all  the 
world  in  comparison  with  the  loving  light  in  that  child's 
eyes,  and  the  tender  pressure  of  his  lips  ? 

The  woman's  ambition  had  long  been  fully  satisfied,  and 
even  exacting  conscience,  jealously  guarding  its  shrine,  saw 
daily  sacrifices  laid  thereon,  and  smiled  approvingly  upon 
her ;  but  the  woman's  hungry  heart  cried  out,  and  fought 
fiercely,  famine-goaded,  for  its  last  vanishing  morsel  of 
human  love  and  sympathy.  Verily,  these  bread-riots  of 
the  heart  are  fearful  things,  and  crucified  consciences  too 
often  mark  their  track. 

The  little  figure  on  the  bed  was  so  motionless,  that  Edna 
crept  nearer  and  leaned  down  to  listen  to  the  breathing ; 
and  her  tears  fell  on  his  thick,  curling  hair,  and  upon  the 
orange-blossoms  and  violets. 

Standing  there,  she  threw  up  her  clenched  hands  and 
prayed  sobbingly : 

"  My  Father  !  spare  the  boy  to  me  !-  I  will  dedicate  anew 
my  life  and  his  to  thy  work !  I  will  make  him  a  minister 
of  thy  word,  and  he  shall  save  precious  souls.  Oh  !  do  not 
take  him  away  !  If  not  for  a  lifetime,  at  least  spare  him  a 
few  years  !     Even  one  more  year,  O  my  God !" 

She  walked  to  the  window,  rested  her  forehead  against 
the  stone  facing,  and  looked  out ;  and  the  wonderful  witch- 
ery of  the  solemn  night  wove  its  spell  around  her.  G:eat, 
golden  stars  clustered  in  the  clear  heavens,  and  were  re- 
flected in  the  calm,  blue  pavement  of  the  Mediterranean, 
where  not  a  ripple  shivered  their  shining  images.  A  wan- 
ing crescent  moon  swiang  hij^h  over  the  eastern  crest  of 


8T.  ELMO.  549 

the  Apennines,  and  threw  a  weird  light  aloLg  t'«a  e  Delia's 
marble  palace,  and  down  on  the  silver  gray  olives,  on  the 
glistening  orange-groves,  snow-powdered  with  fragrant 
bloom ;  and  in  that  wan,  mysterious,  and  most  melancholy 

light— 

"  The. old,  miraculous  mountains  heaved  in  sight, 
One  straining  past  another  along  the  shore 
The  way  of  grand,  dull  Odyssean  ghosts, 
Athirst  to  drink  the  cool,  blue  wine  of  seas, 
And  stare  on  voyagers." 

From  some  lofty  campanile,  in  a  distant  section  of  the 
silent  city,  sounded  the  angelus  bell ;  and  from  the  deep 
shadow  of  olive,  vine,  and  myrtle  that  clothed  the  amphi- 
theatre of  hills, the  convent-bells  caught  and  reechoed  it. 

"  Nature  comes  sometimes, 
And  says,  '  I  am  ambassador  for  God ;' " 

and  the  splendor  of  the  Italian  night  spoke  to  Edna's  soul, 
as  the  glory  of  the  sunset  had  done  some  years  before,  when 
she  sat  in  the  dust  in  the  pine  glades  at  Le  Bocage ;  and 
she  grew  calm  once  more,  while  out  of  the  blue  depths  of 
the  starlit  sea  came  a  sacred  voice,  that  said  to  her  aching 
heart : 

"  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you :  not 
as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your  heart 
be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid." 

The  cup  was  not  passing  away ;  but  courage  to  drain  it 
was  given  by  Him,  who  never  calls  his  faithful  children 
into  the  gloom  of  Gethsemane,  without  having  first  sta- 
tioned close  at  hand  some  strengthening  angel.  The  gov- 
erness went  back  to  the  bed,  and  there,  on  the  pillow, 
rested  the  moth,  which  at  her  approach  flew  away  with  a 
humming  sound,  and  disappeared. 

After  another  hour  she  saw  that  a  change  was  stealing 
over  the  boy's  countenance,  and  his  pulse  fluttered  more 
feebly  against  her  cold  fingers.     She  sprang  into  the  next 


550  8T-  ELMO. 

room,  shook  his  mother,  and  hastened  back,  trying  to  rouso 
the  dying  child,  and  give  him  some  stimulants.  But  though 
the  large,  black  eyes  opened  when  she  raised  his  he  ad,  there 
was  no  recognition  in  their  fixed  gaze  ;  for  the  soul  was  pre- 
paring for  its  final  flight,  and  was  too  busy  to  look  out  of 
its  windows. 

In  vain  they  resorted  to  the  most  powerful  restoratives ; 
he  remained  in  the  heavy  stupor,  with  no  sign  of  animation, 
save  the  low,  irregular,  breath,  and  the  weak  flutter  of  the 
thread-like  pulse. 

Mrs.  Andrews  wept  aloud  and  wrung  her  hands,  and  Hat- 
tie  cried  passionately,  as  she  stood  in  her  long  white  night- 
gown at  the  side  of  her  brother's  bed  ;  but  there  were  no 
tears  on  Edna's  cold  gray  face.  She  had  spent  them  all  at 
the  foot  of  God's  throne  ;  and  now  that  He  had  seen  fit  to 
deny  her  petition,  she  silently  looked  with  dry  eyes  at  the 
heavy  rod  that  smote  her. 

The  night  waned,  the  life  with  it ;  now  and  then  the 
breathing  seemed  to  cease,  but  after  a  few  seconds  a  faint 
gasp  told  that  the  clay  would  not  yet  forego  its  hold  on 
the  soul  that  struggled  to  be  free. 

The  poor  mother  seemed  almost  beside  herself,  as  she 
called  on  her  child  to  speak  to  her  once  more. 

"  Sing  something,  Edna  ;  oh  !  perhaps  he  will  hear !  It 
might  rouse  him !" 

The  orphan  shook  her  head,  and  dropped  her  face  on  his. 

"  He  would  not  hear  me ;  no,  no  !  He  is  listening  to  the 
song  of  those,  whose  golden  harps  ring  in  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem." 

Out  of  the  whitening  east  rose  the  new  day,  radiant  in 
bridal  garments,  wearing  a  star  on  its  pearly  brow  ;  and  the 
sky  flushed,  and  the  sea  glowed,  while  silvery  mists  rolled 
up  from  the  purple  mountain  gorges,  and  rested  awhile  on 
t,he  summits  of  the  Apennines,  and  sunshine  streamed  over 
Jhe  world  once  more. 

The  first  rays  flashed  into  the  room,  kissing  the  withered 


ST.  ELMO.  551 

flowers  on  the  bosom  of  the  crippie,  anJ  fa  lug  worm 
and  bright  on  the  cold  eyelids  and  the  pulseless  temples. 
Edna's  hand  was  pressed  to  his  heart,  and  she  knew  that  it  had 
given  its  last  weary  throb  ;  knew  that  Felix  Andrews  had 
crossed  the  sea  of  glass,  and  in  the  dawn  of  the  Eternal  day 
wore  the  promised  morning-star,  and  stood  in  peace  before 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness. 

During  the  two  days  that  succeeded  the  death  of  Felix, 
Edna  did  not  leave  her  room  ;  and  without  her  knowledge 
Mrs.  Andrews  administered  opiates  that  stupefied  her. 
Late  on  the  morning  of  the  third  she  awoke,  and  lay  for 
some  time  trying  to  collect  her  thoughts. 

Her  mind  was  clouded,  but  gradually  it  cleared,  and  she 
strained  her  ears  to  distinguish  the  low  words  spoken  in  the 
apartment  next  to  her  own.  She  remembered,  as  in  a  fever- 
ish dream,  all  that  passed  on  the  night  that  Felix  died ;  and 
pressing  her  hand  over  her  aching  forehead,  she  rose  and 
sat  on  the  edge  of  her  bed. 

The  monotonous  sounds  in  the  neighboring  room  swelled 
louder  for  a  few  seconds,  and  now  she  heard  very  distinctly 
the  words  : 

"  And  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto  me, 
Write,  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord  from 
henceforth." 

She  shivered,  and  wrapped  around  her  shoulders  a  bright; 
blue  shawl  that  had  been  thrown  over  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

Walking  across  the  floor,  she  opened  the  door,  and 
looked  in. 

The  boy's  body  had  been  embalmed,  and  placed  in  a 
coffin  which  rested  in  the  centre  of  the  room ;  and  an  Eng« 
lish  clergyman,  a  friend  of  Mr.  Manning's,  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  corpse,  and  read  the  burial  service. 

Mrs.  Andrews  and  Hattie  were  weeping  in  one  corner, 
and  Mr.  Manning  leaned  against  the  window,  with  his  hand 
on  Lila's  curls.  As  the  door  swung  open  and  Edna  enterecL 
he  looked  up. 


652  ST-  elmo. 

Her  dressing  gown  of  gray  merino  trailed  on  tl  e  marbla 
floor,  and  her  bare  feet  gleamed  like  ivory,  as  one  hand 
caught  up  the  soft  merino  folds  sufficiently  to  enable  her 
to  walk.  Over  the  blue  shawl  streamed  her  beautiful  hair, 
making  the  wan  face  look  even  more  ghastly  by  contrast 
■with  its  glossy  jet  masses. 

She  stood  irresolute, with  her  calm,  mournful  eyes  riveted 
on  the  coffin,  and  Mr.  Manning  saw  her  pale  lips  move  as 
ehe  staggered  toward  it.  He  sprang  to  meet  and  intercept 
her,  and  she  stretched  her  hands  in  the  direction  of  the 
corpse,  and  smiled  strangely,  murmuring  like  one  in  a 
troubled  dream  : 

"  You  need  not  be  afraid,  little  darling,  '  there  is  no  night 
there.'  " 

She  reeled  and  put  her  hand  to  her  heart,  and  would  have 
fallen,  but  Mr.  Manning  caught  and  carried  her  back  to  her 
room. 

For  two  weeks  she  hovered  on  the  borders  of  eternity ; 
and  often  the  anxious  friends  who  watched  her,  felt  that 
they  would  rather  see  her  die  than  endure  the  suffering, 
through  which  she  was  called  to  pass. 

She  bore  it  silently,  meekly,  and  when  the  danger  seemed 
over,  and  she  was  able  to  sleep  without  the  aid  of  narcotics, 
Mrs.  Andrews  could  not  bear  to  look  at  the  patient  white 
face,  so  hopelessly  calm. 

No  allusion  was  made  to  Felix,  even  after  she  was  able  to 
sit  up  and  ride ;  but  once,  when  Mr.  Manning  brought  her 
some  flowers,  she  looked  sorrowfully  at  the  snowy  orange- 
blossoms,  whose  strong  perfume  made  her  turn  paler,  and 
gaid  faintly  : 

"  I  shall  never  love  them  or  violets  again.  Take  them 
away,  Hattie,  out  of  my  sight ;  put  them  on  your  brother's 
grave.     They  smell  of  death." 

From  that  day  she  made  a  vigorous  effort  to  rouse  her- 
self, and  the  boy's  name  never  passed  her  lips  ;  though  she 
spent  many  hours  over  a  small  manuscript  which  she  found 


ST.  ELMO.  553 

among  his  books,  directed  to  her  for  revision.  "  Tales  for 
Little  Cripples,"  was  the  title  he  had  given  it,  and  she  was 
surprised  at  the  beauty  and  pathos  of  many  of  the  sentences. 
She  carefully  revised  and  rewrote  it,  adding  a  brief  sketch 
of  the  young  writer,  and  gave  it  to  his  mother. 

About  a  month  after  Felix's  death  the  governess  seemed 
to  have  recovered  her  physical  strength,  and  Mrs.  Andrews 
announced  her  intention  of  going  to  Germany.  Mr.  Man- 
ning had  engagements  that  called  him  to  France,  and,  on 
the  last  day  of  their  stay  at  Genoa,  he  came  as  usual  to 
spend  the  evening  with  Edna. 

A  large  budget  of  letters  and  papers  had  arrived  from 
America ;  and  when  he  gave  her  the  package  containing  her 
share,  she  glanced  over  the  directions,  threw  them  unopened 
into  a  heap  on  the  table,  and  continued  the  conversation  in 
which  she  was  engaged,  concerning  the  architecture  of  the 
churches  in  Genoa. 

Mrs.  Andrews  had  gone  to  the  vault  where  the  body  of 
her  son  had  been  temporarily  placed,  and  Edna  was  alone 
with  the  editor. 

"  You  ought  to  look  into  your  papers ;  they  contain  very 
gratifying  intelligence  for  you.  Your  last  book  has  gone 
through  twenty  editions,  and  your  praises  are  chanted  all 
over  your  native  land.  Surely  if  ever  a  woman  had  adula- 
tion enough  to  render  her  perfectly  happy  and  pardonably 
proud,  you  are  the  fortunate  individual.  Already  your  nu- 
merous readers  are  inquiring  when  you  will  give  them  an- 
other book." 

She  leaned  her  head  back  against  her  chair,  and  the  little 
hands  caressed  each  other  as  they  rested  on  her  knee,  while 
her  countenance  was  eloquent  with  humble  gratitude  for 
the  success,  that  God  had  permitted  to  crown  her  efforts ; 
but  she  was  silent. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  write  a  book  of  travels,  embracing 
the  incidents  that  have  marked  your  tour  ?  I  see  the  public 
expect  it." 


554  ST.  ELMO, 

"  ¥o,  sir.  It  seems  now  a  mere  matter  of  course  that 
all  scribblers  who  come  to  Europe,  should  afflict  the  reading 
world  with  an  account  of  what  they  saw  or  failed  to  see. 
So  many  noble  books  have  been  already  published,  thor- 
oughly describing  this  continent,  that  I  have  not  the  te- 
merity, the  presumption  to  attempt  to  retouch  the  grand 
old  word-pictures.  At  present,  I  expect  to  write  nothing. 
I  want  to  study  some  subjects  that  greatly  interest  me,  and 
shall  try  to  inform  and  improve  myself,  and  keep  silent  until 
I  see  some  phase  of  truth  neglected,  or  some  new  aspect  of 
error  threatening  mischief  in  society.  Indeed,  I  have  great 
cause  for  gratitude  in  my  literary  career.  At  the  beginning 
I  felt  apprehensive  that  I  was  destined  to  sit  always  under 
the  left  hand  of  fortune,  whom  Michael  Angelo  designed 
as  a  lovely  woman  seated  on  a  revolving  wheel,  throwing 
crowns  and  laurel  wreaths  from  her  right  hand,  while  only 
thorns  dropped  in  a  sharp,  stinging  shower  from  the  other ; 
but,  after  a  time,  the  wheel  turned,  and  now  I  feel  only  the 
soft  pattering  of  the  laurel  leaves.  God  knows  I  do  most 
earnestly  appreciate  his  abundant  blessing  upon  what  I 
have  thus  far  striven  to  effect ;  but,  until  I  see  my  way 
clearly  to  some  subject  of  importance  which  a  woman's 
hand  may  touch,  I  shall  not  take  up  my  pen.  Books  seem 
such  holy  things  to  me,  destined  to  plead  either  for  or  against 
their  creators,  in  the  final  tribunal,  that  I  dare  not  lightly 
or  hastily  attempt  to  write  them  ;  and  I  can  not  help  think 
ing  that  the  author  who  is  less  earnestly  and  solemnly  im- 
pressed with  the  gravity,  and,  I  may  almost  say,  the  sanc- 
tity of  his  or  her  work,  is  unworthy  of  it,  and  of  publio 
confidence.  I  dare  not,  even  if  I  could,  dash  off  articles 
and  books  as  the  rower  shakes  water-drops  from  his  oar  ; 
and  I  humbly  acknowledge  that  what  success  I  may  have 
achieved  is  owing  to  hard,  faithful  work.  I  have  received 
so  many  kind  letters  from  children  that  some  time,  if  I  live 
to  be  wise  enough,  I  want  to  write  a  book  especially  for 
*hem.     I  am  afraid  to  attempt  it  just  now  ;  for  it  requires 


ST.  ei,mo.  553 

more  mature  judgment  and  experience, and  greater  versatil 
ity  of  talent  to  write  successfully  for  children  than  for 
grown  persons.  In  the  latter,  one  is  privileged  to  assume 
native  intelligence  and  cultivation ;  but  the  tender,untutored 
minds  of  the  former  permit  no  such  margin ;  and  this  fact 
necessitates  clearness  and  simplicity  of  style,  and  power  of 
illustration  that  seem  to  me  very  rare.  As  yet  I  am  con- 
scious of  my  incapacity  for  the  mission  of  preparing  juvenile 
books ;  but  perhaps,  if  I  study  closely  the  characteristics  of 
young  people,  I  shall  learn  to  understand  them  more  thor- 
oughly. So  much  depends  on  the  proper  training  of  our 
American  youth,  especially  in  view  of  the  great  political 
questions  that  now  agitate  the  country,  that  I  confess  I  feel 
some  anxiety  on  the  subject." 

"  But,  Edna,  you  will  not  adhere  to  your  resolution  of 
keeping  silent.  The  public  is  a  merciless  task-master; 
your  own  ambition  will  scourge  you  on ;  and  having  once 
put  your  hand  to  the  literary  plough,  you  will  not  be  al- 
lowed to  look  back.  Rigorously  the  world  exacts  to  the 
last  iota, the  full  quota  of  the  author's  arura" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  '  he  that  plougheth  should  plough  in  hope  ;' 
and  when  I  can  see  clearly  across  the  wide  field,  and  drive 
the  gleaming  share  of  truth  straight  and  steady  to  the  end, 
then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  I  render  my  summer  day's 
antra.  Meantime,  I  am  resolved  to  plough  no  crooked,  shal- 
low furrows  on  the  hearts  of  our  people." 

At  length,  when  Mr.  Manning  rose  to  say  good-night,  he 
looked  gravely  at  the  governess,  and  asked  : 

"  Edna,  can  not  Lila  take  the  vacant  place  in  your  sad 
heart  ?" 

"  It  is  not  vacant,  sir.  Dear  memories  walk  to  and  fro 
therein,  weaving  garlands  of  immortelles  —  singing  sweet 
tunes  of  days  and  years  —  that  can  never  die.  Hereafter  I 
shall  endeavor  to  entertain  the  precious  guests  I  have  al- 
ready, and  admit  no  more.  The  past  is  the  realm  of  my 
heart ;  the  present  and  future  the  kingdom  where  my  mind 
must  dwell,  and  my  hands  labor," 


556  ST.  ELMO. 

With  a  sigh  he  went  away,  and  she  took  up  the  letters 
and  began  to  read  them.  Many  were  from  strangers,  and 
they  greatly  cheered  and  encouraged  her  ;  but  finally  sh« 
opened  one,  whose  superscription  had  until  this  instant  es- 
caped her  cursory  glance.  It  was  from  Mr.  Hammond,  and 
contained  an  account  of  Mr.  Murray's  ordination.  She 
read  and  re-read  it,  with  a  halfbewildered  expression  in 
her  countenance,  for  the  joy  seemed  far  too  great  for  cre- 
dence. She  looked  again  at  the  date  and  signature,  and 
passing  her  hand  over  her  brow,  wondered  if  there  could 
be  any  mistake.  The  paper  fell  into  her  lap,  and  a  cry  of 
delight  rang  through  the  room. 

"  Saved — purified — consecrated  henceforth  to  God's  holy 
work  ?  A  minister  of  Christ  ?  O  most  merciful  God  !  I 
thank  thee  !  My  prayers  are  answered  with  a  blessing  I 
never  dared  to  hope  for,  or  even  to  dream  of!  Can  I  ever, 
ever  be  grateful  enough  ?  A  pastor,  holding  up  pure 
hands  !  Thank  God  !  my  sorrows  are  all  ended  now  ;  there 
is  no  more  grief  for  me.  Ah  !  what  a  glory  breaks  upon 
the  future  !  What  though  I  never  see  his  face  in  this 
world  ?  I  can  be  patient  indeed ;  for  now  I  know,  oh  !  I 
know  that  I  shall  surely  see  it  yonder  !" 

She  sank  on  her  knees  at  the  open  window,  and  wept  for 
the  first  time  since  Felix  died.  Happy,  happy  tears  min- 
gled with  broken  words  of  rejoicing,-that  seemed  a  foretaste 
of  heaven. 

Her  heart  was  so  full  of  gratitude  and  exultation,  that 
she  could  not  sleep,  and  she  sat  down  and  looked  over  the 
sea,  while  her  face  was  radiant  and  tremulous.  The  transi- 
tion from  patient  hopelessness  and  silent  struggling — this 
most  unexpected  and  glorious  fruition  of  the  prayers  of 
many  years  —  was  so  sudden  and  intoxicating,  that  it  com- 
pletely unnerved  her. 

She  could  not  bear  this  great  happiness  as  she  had  borne 
her  sorrows,  and  now  and  then  she  smiled  to  find  the  team 
gushing  afresh  from  her  beaming  eyes. 


ST.  ELMO.  507 

Once,  in  an  hour  of  sinful  madness,  Mr.  Murray  had  taken 
a  human  life,  and  ultimately  caused  the  loss  of  another ; 
but  the  waves  that  were  running  high  beyond  the  mole 
told  her  in  thunder-tones  that  he  had  saved,  had  snatched 
two  lives  from  their  devouring  rage.  And  the  shining  stars 
overhead  grouped  themselves  into  characters  that  said  to 
her,  "  Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged  ;"  and  the  ancient 
mountains  whispered,  "  Stand  still,  and  see  the  salvation  of 
God!"  and  the  grateful  soul  of  the  lonely  woman  an- 
swered : 

"  That  all  the  jarring  notea  of  life 

Seem  blending  in  a  psalm, 

And  all  the  angles  of  its  strife 

Slow  rounding  into  calm." 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 


"MMEDIATELY  after  her  return  to  New- York, 
Edna  resumed  her  studies  with  renewed  energy, 
and  found  her  physical  strength  recruited  and 
her  mind  invigorated  by  repose.  Her  fondness 
for  Hattie  induced  her  to  remain  with  Mrs.  Andrews,  in 
the  capacity  of  governess,  though  her  position  in  the  family 
had  long  ceased  to  resemble  in  any  respeet  that  of  a  hire- 
ling. Five  hours  of  each  day  were  devoted  to  the  educa- 
tion of  the  little  girl,  who,  though  vastly  inferior  in  mental 
endowments  to  her  brother,  was  an  engaging  and  exceed- 
ingly affectionate  child,  fully  worthy  of  the  love  which  her 
gifted  governess  lavished  upon  her.  The  remainder  of  her 
time  Edna  divided  between  study,  music,  and  an  extensive 
correspondence,  which  daily  increased. 

She  visited  little,  having  no  leisure  and  less  inclination  to 
fritter  away  her  mornings  in  gossip  and  chit-chat ;  but  she 
appropriated  one  evening  in  each  week  to  the  reception  of 
her  numerous  kind  friends,  and  of  all  strangers  who  desired 
to  call  upon  her.  These  reunions  were  brilliant  and  de- 
lightful, and  it  was  considered  a  privilege  to  be  present  at 
gatherings  where  eminent  men  and  graceful,  refined,  cul- 
tivated Christian  women  assembled  to  discuss  ethical  and 
aesthetic  topics,  which  all  educated  Americans  are  deemed 
capable  of  comprehending. 

Edna's  abhorrence  of  double  entendre  and  of  the  fashion- 
able sans  souci  style  of  conversation,  which  was  tolerated 
by  many  who  really  disliked  but  had  not  nerve  enough  to 


ST.  ELMO.  559 

frown  it  down,  was  not  a  secret  to  any  who  read  her  writr 
ings  or  attended  her  receptions.  Without  obtruding  he* 
rigid  views  of  true  womanly  delicacy  and  decorum  upon 
any  one,  her  deportment  under  all  circumstances  silently 
published  her  opinion  of  certain  latitudinarian  expressions 
prevalent  in  society. 

She  saw  that  the  growing  tendency  to  free  and  easy  man- 
ners and  colloquial  license  was  rapidly  destroying  all  rev 
erence  for  womanhood ;  was  levelling  the  distinction  be- 
tween ladies'  parlors  and  gentlemen's  club-rooms  ;  was 
placing  the  sexes  on  a  platform  of  equality  which  was  dan- 
gerous to  feminine  delicacy,  that  God-built  bulwark  of  femi- 
nine purity  and  of  national  morality. 

That  time-honored  maxim,  " Honi  soit  qui  mal y pense" 
she  found  had  been  distorted  from  its  original  and  noble 
significance,  and  was  now  a  mere  convenient  India-rubber 
cloak,  stretched  at  will  to  cover  and  excuse  allusions  which 
no  really  modest  woman  could  tolerate.  Consequently 
when  she  heard  it  flippantly  pronounced  in  pilhation  of 
some  gross  offence  against  delicacy,she  looked  more  search- 
ingly  into  the  characters  of  the  indiscreet  talkers,  and  quiet- 
ly intimated  to  them  that  their  presence  was  not  desired  at 
her  receptions.  Believing  that  modesty  and  purity  were 
twin  sisters,  and  that  vulgarity  and  vice  were  rarely  if  ever 
divorced,  Edna  sternly  refused  to  associate  with  those  whose 
laxity  of  manners  indexed,  in  her  estimation,  a  correspond- 
ing laxity  of  morals.  Married  belles  and  married  beaux  she 
sbunned  and  detested,  regarding  them  as  a  disgrace  to  their 
families,  as  a  blot  upon  all  noble  womanhood  and  manhood, 
and  as  the  most  dangerous  foes  to  the  morality  of  the  com- 
munity, in  which  they  unblushingly  violated  hearth-stone 
statutes  and  the  venerable  maxims  of  social  decorum. 

The  ostracized  banded  in  wrath,  and  ridiculed  her  anti- 
quated prudery;  but  knowing  that  the  pure  and  noble 
mothers,  wives,  and  daughters  honored  and  trusted  her, 
Edna  gave  no  heed  to  raillery  and  envious  malice,  but  reso 


560  -»»  ELMO. 

lutely  obeyed  the  dictates  of  conscience  and  ti^e  prcniptmgs 
of  her  womanly  intuitions. 

Painful  experience  had  taught  her  the  imprulence,  the 
short-sighted  policy  of  working  until  very  late  at  night ; 
and  in  order  to  take  due  care  of  her  health,  she  wisely  re- 
sorted to  a  different  system  of  study,  which  gave  her  more 
sleep,  and  allowed  her  some  hours  of  daylight  for  her  lite- 
rary labors. 

In  the  industrial  pursuits  of  her  own  sex  she  was  intensely 
interested,  and  spared  no  trouble  in  acquainting  herself  with 
the  statistics  of  those  branches  of  employment  already  open 
to  them;  consequently  she  was  never  so  happy  as  when  the 
recipient  of  letters  from  the  poor  women  of  the  land,  who 
thanked  her  for  the  words  of  hope,  advice,  and  encourage- 
ment which  she  constantly  addressed  to  them. 

While  the  world  honored  her,  she  had  the  precious  assur- 
ance that  her  Christian  countrywomen  loved  and  trusted 
her.  She  felt  the  painful  need  of  Mr.  Manning's  society,  and 
even  his  frequent  letters  did  not  fully  satisfy  her;  but  as  he 
had  resolved  to  reside  in  Europe,  at  least  for  some  years, 
she  bore  the  irreparable  loss  of  his  counsel  and  sympathy, 
as  she  bore  all  other  privations,  bravely  and  quietly. 

Now  and  then  alarming  symptoms  of  the  old  suffering 
warned  her  of  the  uncertainty  of  her  life ;  and  after  much 
deliberation,  feeling  that  her  time  was  limited,  she  com- 
menced another  book. 

Mr.  Hammond  wrote  begging  her  to  come  to  him,  as  he 
was  now  hopelessly  infirm,  and  confined  to  his  room ;  but 
3he  shrank  from  a  return  to  the  village  so  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  events  which  she  wished  if  possible  to  forget ; 
and,  while  she  declined  the  invitation,  she  proved  her  affec- 
tion for  her  venerable  teacher  by  sending  him  every  day  a 
long,  cheerful  letter. 

Since  her  departure  from  the  parsonage  Mrs.  Murray  had 
never  written  to  her ;  but  through  Mr.  Hammond's  and  Hul- 
dah's  letters  Edna  learned  that  Mr.  Murray  was  the  officiat 


ST.  ELMO.  5(31 

ing  minister  in  the  church  which  he  had.  buJt  in  Lis  boy- 
hood ;  and  now  and  then  the  old  pastor  painted  pictures  of 
life  at  Le  Bocage,that  brought  happy  tears  to  the  orphan's 
eyes  She  heard  from  time  to  time  of  the  good  the  new 
minister  was  accomplishing  among  the  poor  ;  of  the  bene 
ficial  influence  he  exerted,  especially  over  the  young  men  of 
the  community ;  of  the  charitable  institutions  to  which  he 
was  devoting  a  large  portion  of  his  fortune ;  of  the  love 
and  respect,  the  golden  opinions  he  was  winning  from 
those  whom  he  had  formerly  estranged  by  his  sarcastic  bit- 
terness. 

While  Edna  fervently  thanked  God  for  this  most  wonder- 
ful change,  she  sometimes  repeated  exultingly : 

"  Man-like  is  it  to  fall  into  sin, 
Fiend-like  is  it  to  dwell  therein, 
Christ-like  is  it  for  sin  to  grieve, 
God-like  is  it  all  sin  to  leave !" 

Only  one  cause  of  disquiet  now  remained.  The  political 
storm  of  1861  alarmed  her;  and  she  determined  that  if  the 
threatened  secession  of  the  South  took  place,  she  would  im- 
mediately remove  to  Charleston  or  New-Orleans,  link  her 
destiny  with  the  cause  which  she  felt  was  so  just,  so  holy, 
and  render  faithful  allegiance  to  the  section  she  loved  so  well. 
She  knew  that  she  could  easily  obtain  a  school,  or  support 
herself  by  her  pen ;  and  moreover,  a  very  respectable 
amount — the  careful  savings  of  sums  paid  by  her  publish- 
ers— was  now  in  Mr.  Andrews     keeping. 

One  darling  rose-hued  dream  of  her  life  was  to  establish 
a  free-school  and  circulating  library  in  the  village  of  Chat- 
tanooga ;  and  keeping  this  hope  ever  in  view,  she  had  denied 
herself  all  superfluous  luxuries,  and  jealously  hoarded  her 
savings. 

She  felt  now  that,  should  she  become  an  invalid,  and  in- 
capable of  writing  or  teaching,  the  money  which  Mr.  An- 
drews had  invested  very  judiciously,  would  at  least  supply 
hei  with  the  necessities  of  life. 


5f>2  ST.  ELMO. 

One  evening  she  held  her  weekly  reception  as  usual,, 
though  she  had  complained  of  not  feeling  quite  wel.  that  day. 

A  number  of  carriages  stood  before  Mrs.  Andrews'  door, 
and  many  friends  who  laughed  and  talked  to  the  governess, 
little  dreamed  that  it  was  the  last  time  they  would  spend 
an  evening  together  in  her  society.  The  pleasant  hours 
passed  swiftly ;  Edna  had  never  conversed  more  gracefully 
or  brilliantly,  and  the  auditors  thought  her  voice  was  richer 
and  sweeter  than  ever, as  she  sang  the  last  song  and  rose 
from  the  piano. 

The  guests  took  their  departure — the  carriages  rolled 
away. 

Mrs.  Andrews  ran  up  to  her  room,  and  Edna  paused  in 
the  brilliantly  lighted  parlors  to  read  a  note,  which  had 
been  handed  to  her  during  the  evening. 

Standing  under  the  blazing  chandelier,  the  face  and  figure 
of  this  woman  could  not  fail  to  excite  interest  in  all  who 
gazed  upon  her. 

She  was  dressed  in  plain  black  silk,  which  exactly  fitted 
her  form,  and  in  her  hair  glowed  rich  clusters  of  scarlet 
sage  and  geranium  flowers.  A  spray  of  red  fuchsia  was 
fastened  by  the  beautiful  stone  cameo  that  confined  her  lace 
collar ;  and,  save  the  handsome  gold  bands  on  her  wrists, 
she  wore  no  other  ornaments. 

Felix  had  given  her  these  bracelets"  as  a  Christmas  pre- 
sent, and  after  his  death  she  never  took  them  off;  for  inside 
he  had  his  name  and  hers  engraved,  and  between  them  the 
word  "  Mizpah." 

To-night  the  governess  was  very  weary,  and  the  fair  sweet 
face  wore  its  old  childish  expression  of  mingled  hopeless- 
ness, and  perfect  patience,  and  indescribable  repose.  As 
she  read,  the  tired  look  passed  away,  and  over  her  pallid 
features,  so  daintily  sculptured,  stole  a  faint  glow,  such  as 
an  ivory  Niobe  might  borrow  from  the  fluttering  crimson 
folds  of  silken  shroudings.  The  peaceful  lips  stirred  also, 
and  the  low  tone  was  full  of  pathos  as  she  said; 


ST.  ELMO.  563 

"  How  very  grateful  I  ought  to  be.  How  much  I  have 
to  make  me  happy,  to  encourage  me  to  work  diligently  and 
faithfully.  How  comforting  it  is  to  feel  that  parents  have 
sufficient  confidence  in  me  to  be  willing  to  commit  their 
children  to  my  care.  What  more  can  I  wish  ?  My  cup  is 
brimmed  with  blessings.  Ah  !  why  am  I  not  entirely  hap- 
py?" 

The  note  contained  the  signatures  of  six  wealthy  gentle- 
men, who  requested  her  acceptance  of  a  tasteful  and  hand- 
some house,  on  condition  that  she  would  consent  to  under- 
take the  education  of  their  daughtei's,  and  permit  them  to 
pay  her  a  liberal  salary. 

It  was  a  flattering  tribute  to  the  clearness  of  her  intel- 
lect, the  soundness  of  her  judgment,  the  extent  of  her  ac- 
quirements, and  the  purity  of  her  heart. 

While  she  could  not  accede  to  the  proposition,  she  ap- 
preciated most  gratefully  the  generosity  and  good  opinion 
of  those  who  made  it. 

Twisting  the  note  between  her  fingers,  her  eyes  fell  on 
the  carpet,  and  she  thought  of  all  her  past ;  of  the  sorrows, 
struggles,  and  heart-aches,  the  sleepless  nights  and  weary, 
joyless  days — first  of  adverse,  then  of  favorable  criticism  ; 
of  toiling,  hoping,  dreading,  praying ;  and  now,  in  the 
peaceful  zenith  of  her  triumph,  popularity,  and  usefulness, 
she  realized 

"  That  care  and  trial  seem  at  last, 
Through  Memory's  sunset  air. 
Like  mountain  ranges  overpast, 
In  purple  distance  fair." 

The  note  fluttered  to  the  floor,  the  hands  folded  them- 
selves together,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  utter  an  humble 
fervent  "  Thank  God  !'•*  But  the  words  froze  on  her  lips  ; 
for  as  she  looked  up,  she  saw  Mr.  Murray  standing  a  few 
feet  from  her. 

"  God  has  pardoned  all  my  sins,  and  accepted  me  as  a 


504  ST.  ELMO. 

laborer  worthy  to  enter  his  vineyard.  Is  EcLla  Earl  more 
righteous  than  the  Lord  she  worships  i  ' 

His  face  was  almost  as  pale  as  hers,  and  his  voice  trem- 
bled as  he  extended  his  arms  toward  her. 

She  stood  motionless,  looking  up  at  him  with  eyes  that 
brightened  and  brightened  until  their  joyful  radiance 
seemed  indeed  unearthly  ;  and  the  faint,  delicate  blush  on 
her  cheeks  deepened  and  burned,  and  with  a  quivering  cry 
of  gladness  that  told  volumes,  she  hid  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

He  came  nearer,  and  the  sound  of  his  low,  mellow  voice 
thrilled  her  heart  as  no  other  music  had  ever  done. 

"  Edna,  have  you  a  right  to  refuse  me  forgiveness, when 
the  blood  of  Christ  has  purified  me  from  the  guilt  of  other 
years  ?" 

She  trembled  and  said  brokenly  : 

"  Mr.  Murray — you  never  wronged  me — and  I  have  noth- 
ing to  forgive." 

"  Do  you  still  believe  me  an  unprincipled  hypocrite  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,  no,  no  !" 

"Do  you  believe  that  rny  repentance  has  been  sincere, 
and  acceptable  to  mv  insulted  God  ?  Do  you  believe  that 
I  am  now  as  faithfully  endeavoring  to  serve  Him,  as  a  re- 
morseful man  possibly  can  ?" 

"  I  hope  so,  Mr.  Murray." 

"  Edna,  can  you  trust  me  now  ?" 

Some  seconds  elapsed  before  she  answere  and  then  the 
words  were  scarcely  audible. 

"  I  trust  you." 

"  Thank  God  !" 

There  was  a  brief  pause,  and  she  heard  a  heavily-drawn 
sigh  escape  him. 

"  Edna,  it  is  useless  to  tell  you  how  devotedly  I  love 
you,  for  you  have  known  that  for  years  :  and  yet  you  have 
shown  my  love  no  mercy.  But  perhaps  if  you  could  realize 
how  much  I  need  your  help  in  my  holy  work,  how  much 


ST.  ELMO.  5gg 

more  good  I  could  accomplish  in  the  world  if  you  were 
with  me,  you  might  listen,  without  steeling  yourself  against 
me,  as  you  have  so  long  done.  Can  you,  will  you  trust  me 
fully  '?  Can  you  be  a  minister's  wife,  and  aid  him  as  only 
you  can  ?  O  my  darling,  my  darling  !  I  never  expect  to 
be  worthy  of  you  !  But  you  can  make  me  less  unworthy  ! 
My  own  darling,  come  to  me." 

He  stood  within  two  feet  of  her,  but  he  was — too  hum« 
ble?  Nay,  nay,  too  proud  to  touch  her  without  permis- 
sion. 

Her  hands  fell  from  her  crimson  cheeks,  and  she  looked 
up  at  the  countenance  of  her  king. 

In  her  fond  eyes  he  seemed  noble  and  sanctified,  and 
worthy  of  all  confidence  ;  and  as  he  opened  his  arms  once 
more,  she  glided  into  them  and  laid  her  head  on  his  shoul- 
der, whispering : 

"  Oh  !  I  trust  you  !  I  trust  you  fully  !" 

"  Ask  me  no  more  :  thy  fate  and  mine  are  sealed  : 
I  strove  against  the  stream,  and  all  in  vain  : 
Let  the  great  river  take  me  to  the  main  : 
No  more,  dear  love,  for  at  a  touch  I  yield  : 
Ask  me  no  more." 

Standing  in  the  close,  tender  clasp  of  his  strong  arms, 
she  listened  to  a  narration  of  his  grief  and  loneliness,  his 
hopes  and  fears,  his  desolation  and  struggles  and  prayers 
during  their  long  separation.  Then  for  the  first  time  she 
learned  that  he  had  come  more  than  once  to  New-York, 
solely  to  see  her,  having  exacted  a  promise  from  Mr.  Man- 
ning that  he  would  not  betray  his  presence  in  the  city. 
He  had  followed  her  at  a  distance  as  she  wandered  with 
the  children  through  the  park ;  and,  once  in  the  ramble, 
stood  so  close  to  her,  that  he  put  out  his  hand  and  touched 
her  dress.  Mr.  Manning  had  acquainted  him  with  all  that 
had  ever  passed  between  them  on  the  subject  of  his  unsuc- 
cessful suit ;  and  during  her  sojourn  in  Europe,  had  kept 
him  regularly  advised  of  the  state  of  her  health. 


566  ST.  ELMO. 

At  last,  when  Mr.  Murray  bent  his  head  to  press  lis  lips 
again  to  hers,  he  exclaimed  in  the  old,  pleading  tone  that 
had  haunted  her  memory  for  years  : 

"  Edna,  "with  all  your  meekness  you  are  wilfully  proud .' 
You  tell  me  you  trust  me,  and  you  nestle  your  dear  head 
here  on  my  shoulder — why  won't  you  say  what  you  know 
so  well  I  am  longing,  hungering  to  hear  ?  Why  won't  you 
say,  '  St.  Elmo,  I  love  you'  ?  " 

The  glowing  face  was  only  pressed  closer. 

"  My  little  darling  !" 

"  O  Mr.  Murray  !  could  I  be  here " 

"  Well,  my  stately  Miss  Earl !  I  am  waiting  most  re- 
spectfully to  allow  you  an  opportunity  of  expressing 
yourself." 

~No  answer. 

He  laughed  as  she  had  heard  him  once  before,  when  he 
took  her  in  his  arms  and  dared  her  to  look  into  his  eyes. 

"  When  I  heard  your  books  extolled ;  when  I  heard  your 
praises  from  men,  women,  and  children  ;  when  I  could 
scarcely  pick  up  a  paper  without  finding  some  mention  of 
your  name  ;  when  I  came  here  to-night,  and  paced  the 
pavement,  waiting  for  your  admirers  to  leave  the  house ; 
whenever  and  wherever  I  have  heard  your  dear  name 
uttered,  I  have  been  exultingly  proud !  For  I  knew  that 
the  heart  of  the  people's  pet  was  mine,'  all  mine  !  I  gloried 
in  the  consciousness,  which  alone  strengthened  and  com- 
forted me,  that,  despite  all  that  the  public  could  offer  you, 
despite  the  adulation  of  other  men,  and  despite  my  utter 
unworthiness,  my  own  darling  was  true  to  me  !  that  you 
never  loved  any  one  but  St.  Elmo  Murray  !  And  as  God 
reigns  above  us,  his  happy  world  holds  no  man  so  grateful, 
so  happy,  so  proud  as  I  am  !  No  man  so  resolved  to  prove 
himself  worthy  of  his  treasure  !  Edna,  looking  back  across 
the  dark  years  that  have  gone  so  heavily  over  my  head, 
and  comparing  you,  my  pure,  precious  darling,  with  that 
woman,  whom  in  my  boyhood  I  selected  for  my  (ife-com 


ST.  ELMO.  567 

panion,  I  know  not  whether  I  am  most  humble,  or  giateful, 

or  proud ! 

'Ah  !  who  am  I,  that  God  hath  saved 
Me  from  the  doom  I  did  desire, 
And  crossed  the  lot  myself  had  craved 

To  set  me  higher  ? 
What  have  I  done  that  he  should  bow 

From  heaven  to  choose  a  wife  for  me  \ 
And  what  deserved,  he  should  endow 
My  home  with  thee  Y  " 

As  Mr.  Hammond  was  not  able  to  take  the  fatiguing 
journey  north,  and  Edna  would  not  permit  any  one  else  to 
perform  her  marriage  ceremony,  she  sent  Mr.  Murray  home 
without  her,  promising  to  come  to  the  parsonage  as  early  as 
possible. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Andrews  were  deeply  pained  by  the  intel- 
ligence of  her  approaching  departure,  and  finally  they  con- 
sented to  accompany  her  on  her  journey. 

The  last  day  of  the  orphan's  sojourn  in  New- York  was 
spent  at  the  quiet  spot  where  Felix  slept  his  last  sleep  ;  and 
it  caused  her  poignant  grief  to  bid  gtood-bye  to  his  resting- 
place,  which  was  almost  as  dear  to  her  as  the  grave  of  her 
grandfather.  Their  affection  had  been  so  warm,  so  sacred, 
that  she  clung  fondly  to  his  memory  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
she  reached  the  old  depot,  where  carriages  were  waiting 
for  the  party,  that  the  shadow  of  that  day  entirely  left  her 
countenance. 

In  accordance  with  her  own  request,  Edna  did  not  seo 
Mr.  Murray  again  until  the  hour  appointed  for  their  mar- 
riage. 

It  was  a  bright,  beautiful  aftenioon,  warm  with  sunshine, 
when  she  permitted  Mrs.  Murray  to  lead  her  into  the  study 
where  the  party  had  assembled.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Andrews, 
Hattie,  Huldah,  and  the  white-haired  pastor,  were  al] 
there ;  and  when  Edna  entered,  Mr.  Murray  advanced  to 
meet  her,  and  received  her  hand  from  his  mother. 


568  ST-  ELMO. 

The  orphan's  eyes  were  bent  to  the  floor,  an  J  never  once 
lifted,  even  when  the  trembling  voice  of  her  beloved  pastor 
pronounced  her  St.  Elmo  Murray's  wife.  The  intense  pal- 
lor of  her  face  frightened  Mrs.  Andrews,  who  watched  her 
with  suspended  breath,  and  once  moved  eagerly  toward  her. 
Mr.  Murray  felt  her  lean  more  heavily  against  him  during 
the  ceremony ;  and,  now  turning  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  he 
saw  that  her  eyelashes  had  fallen  on  her  cheeks — she  had 
lost  all  consciousness  of  what  was  passing. 

Two  hours  elapsed  before  she  recovered  fully  from  the 
attack  ;  and  when  the  blood  showed  itself  again  in  lips 
that  were  kissed  so  repeatedly,  Mr.  Murray  lifted  her  from 
the  sofa  in  the  study,  and  passing  his  arm  around  her,  said : 

"  To-day  I  snap  the  fetters  of  your  literary  bondage. 
There  shall  be  no  more  books  written  !  No  more  study, 
no  more  toil,  no  more  anxiety,  no  more  heart-aches  !  And 
that  dear  public  you  love  so  well, must  even  help  itself,  and 
whistle  for  a  new  pet.  You  belong  solely  to  me  now,  and 
I  shall  take  care  of  the  life  you  have  nearly  destroyed  in 
your  inordinate  ambition.  Come,  the  fresh  air  will  revive 
you." 

They  stood  a  moment  under  the  honeysuckle  arch  over 
the  parsonage  gate,  where  the  carriage  was  waiting  to  take 
them  to  Le  Bocage,  and  Mr.  Murray  asked : 

"  Are  you  strong  enough  to  go  to  the  church  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  the  pain  has  all  passed  away.  I  am  perfectly 
well  again." 

They  crossed  the  street,  and  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  up  the  steps,  and  into  the  grand,  solemn  church, 
where  the  soft,  holy  violet  light  from  the  richly-tinted 
glass  streamed  over  gilded  organ-pipes  and  sculptured 
columns. 

Neither  Edna  nor  St.  Elmo  spoke  as  they  walked  down 
the  aisle ;  and  in  perfect  silence  both  knelt  before  the  shin- 
ing altar,  and  only  God  heard  their  prayers  of  gratitude. 

After  some  moments  Mr.  Murray  put  out  his  hand,  took 


ST.  ELMO.  569 

Edna's,  and,  holding  it  it  his  on  the  top  of  the  balus- 
trade, he  prayed  aloud,  asking  God's  blessing  on  their  mar- 
riage, and  fervently  dedicating  all  their  future  to  his  work. 

And  the  hectic  flush  of  the  dying  day  was  reflected  on 
the  window  high  above  the  altar,  and,  burning  thi  ough  the 
red  mantle  of  the  Christ,  fell  down  upon  the  marble  shiine 
like  sacred,  sacrificial  fire. 

Edna  felt  as  if  her  heart  could  not  hold  all  its  measure- 
less joy.  It  seemed  a  delightful  dream  to  see  Mr.  Murray 
kneeling  at  her  side  ;  to  hear  his  voice  earnestly  consecrat- 
ing their  lives  to  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ. 

She  knew  from  the  tremor  in  his  tone,  and  the  tears  in 
his  eyes,  that  his  dedication  was  complete  ;  and  now  to  be 
his  companion  through  all  the  remaining  years  of  their 
earthly  pilgrimage,  to  be  allowed  to  help  him  and  love  him, 
to  walk  heavenward  with  her  hand  in  his ;  this — this  was 
the  crowning  glory  and  richest  blessing  of  her  life. 

When  his  prayer  ended,  she  laid  her  head  down  on  the 
altar-railing,  and  sobbed  like  a  child. 

In  the  orange  glow  of  a  wintry  sunset,  they  came  out  and 
sat  down  on  the  steps,  while  a  pair  of  spotless  white  pigeons 
perched  on  the  blood-stain ;  and  Mr.  Murray  put  his  arm 
around  Edna,  and  drew  her  face  to  his  bosom. 

"  Darling,  do  you  remember  that  once,  in  the  dark  days 
of  my  reckless  sinfulness,  I  asked  you  one  night,  in  the  lib- 
rary at  Le  Bocage,  if  you  had  no  faith  in  me  ?  And  you 
repeated  so  vehemently,  '  None,  Mr.  Murray !' " 

"  O  sir !  do  not  think  of  it.  Why  recur  to  what  is  so 
painful  and  so  long  past  ?  Forgive  those  words  and  for- 
get them !  Never  was  more  implicit  faith,  more  devoted 
affection,  given  to  any  human  being  than  I  give  now  to 
you,  Mr.  Murray ;  you,  who  are  my  first  and  my  last  and 
my  only  love." 

She  felt  his  arm  tighten  around  her  waist,  and  his  tears 
fell  on  her  forehead,  as  he  bowed  his  face  to  hers. 

"Forgive?    Ah  my  darling !  do  you  recollect  also  that  I 


570  ST.  ELMO. 

tcld  you  then  that  the  time  would  come  when  ycur  deal 
lips  would  ask  pardon  for  what  they  ottered  that  night,  and 
that  when  that  hour  arrived  I  would  take  my  revenge? 
My  wife  !  my  pure,  noble,  beautiful  wife !  give  me  my  re- 
venge, for  I  cry  with  the  long-banished  Roman : 

'  Oh.  1  a  kiss — long  as  my  exile, 
Sweet  as  my  revenge  1' " 

He  put  his  hand  under  her  chin,  drew  the  lips  to  his,  and 
kissed  them  repeatedly. 

Down  among  the  graves,  in  the  brown  grass  and  withered 
leaves,  behind  a  tall  shaft,  around  which  coiled  a  carved 
marble  serpent  with  hooded  head — there,  amid  the  dead, 
crouched  a  woman's  figure,  with  a  stony,  gray,  Gorgonian 
face,  and  writhing  lips,  and  blue  chatoyant  eyes,  that  glar- 
ed with  murderous  hate  at  the  sweet  holy  countenance  of 
the  happy  bride.  When  St.  Elmo  tenderly  kissed  the  pure 
lips  of  his  wife,  Agnes  Powell  smothered  a  savage  cry,  and 
Nemesis  was  satisfied  as  the  wretched  woman  fell  forward 
on  the  grass,  sweeping  her  yellow  hair  over  her  eyes,  to 
shut  out  the  vision  that  maddened  her. 

Then  and  there,  for  the  first  time,  as  she  sat  enfolded  by 
her  husband's  arm,  Edna  felt  that  she  could  thank  him  for 
the  monument  erected  over  her  grandfather's  grave. 

The  light  faded  slowly  in  the  west,  the  pigeons  ceased  their 
fluttering  about  the  belfry,  and  as  he  turned  to  quit  the 
church,  so  dear  to  both,  Mr.  Murray  stretched  his  hand 
toward  the  ivy-clad  vault,  and  said  solemnly : 

"  I  throw  all  mournful  years  behind  me ;  and,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  our  new  lives,  commencing  this  hallowed 
day,  shall  make  noble  amends  for  the  wasted  past.  Loving 
eacli  other,  aiding  each  other,  serving  Christ,  through 
whose  atonement  alone,  I  have  been  saved  from  eternal 
ruin.  To  Thy  merciful  guidance,  O  Father !  we  commit  oui 
future." 


ST.  ELMO.  571 

Edna  looked  reverently  up  at  his  beaming  countenance, 
whence  the  shadows  of  hate  and  scorn  had  long  since  pass- 
ed ;  and,  as  his  splendid  eyes  came  back  to  hers,  reading 
in  her  beautiful,  pure  face  all  her  love  and  confidence  and 
happy  hope,  he  drew  her  closer  to  bis  bosom,  and  laid  his 
dark  cheek  on  hers,  saying  fondly  and  proudly : 

"  My  wife,  my  life.    Oh !  we  will  walk  this  world, 
Yoked  in  all  exercise  of  noble  end, 
And  so  through  those  dark  gates  across  the  wild 
That  no  man  knows.    My  hopes  and  thine  are  one 
Accomplish  thou  my  manhood,  and  thyself, 
Lay  thy  sweet  hands  in  mine  and  trust  to  me  " 


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RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 

This  book  is  due  at  tl 
last  date  stamped  un 
renewed  by  bringing 

THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

PS3332 

.S7 

1867 

DATE                    R 
DUE 

M16  17  1 

3SL                    1 



111  ' 

JL 

i 

I 

I          n  No  513 

